


Witch of the Woods

by bltbackwards



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Medieval, Cannon? What cannon? We've got trebuchets, F/F, Give Lena a hug 12k1, Kara too good too pure for ye old world, Knight AU, Maggie making flowers badass since 1201 AD, Making Alex's figurative shinning armour a reality
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-16
Updated: 2020-05-04
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:40:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 19,160
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23167906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bltbackwards/pseuds/bltbackwards
Summary: Desperate to save her sister, Alex Danvers, a knight of Midvale, seeks out the fabled, deadly Witch of the Woods. But things are not as they seem, both in the woods and in her own lands. In order to thwart a sinister conspiracy, Alex must find allies in the most unlikely of places.OR The one with magic, swords, and double dates to save the world.
Relationships: Alex Danvers/Maggie Sawyer, Background Kara Danvers/Lena Luthor
Comments: 59
Kudos: 147





	1. Deadly Nightshade

**Author's Note:**

> It’s a new year, but I’m still not over Sanvers. So, here’s a medieval AU set roughly in a fantastical early 13th century Southern France. Some vocabulary notes and historical tidbits cobbled together from perfunctory research will be in the author’s notes, but they aren’t required to enjoy the story and can be skipped. If there’s any history majors or otherwise out there who want to teach me more, please don’t hesitate to comment more fun facts!
> 
> Hope you all are staying safe and sane out there!
> 
> *All flower descriptions are borrowed and adapted from the game _A Plague Tale: Innocence_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Vocabulary notes:  
>  _Denier_ – A small, silver piece (the only coin minted in the early 13th century) known in England as a penny. Twelve deniers equaled one sol (shilling) and 20 sols equaled one livre (pound). [ [1] ](https://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/UsefulNotes/OldFrenchMoney) [ [2] ](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/French_denier)
> 
> _Hauberk_ – A chain mail shirt
> 
>  _Surcoat_ – A robe with a belt around the waist, placed over the body armour and emblazoned with the knight’s coat of arms to identify them in battle
> 
>  _March_ – A borderland between realms. They served political purposes such as providing warning of military incursions and/or regulating cross-border trade. [ [3] ](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/March_\(territory\)) A ruler of this frontier land was called marquess (male) and marchioness (female) and marquis/marquise in French. [ [4] ](http://getasword.com/blog/300-nobility-titles-and-ranks-in-medieval-europe/)

**Deadly Nightshade –** _Also called belladonna. A symbol of deception, danger, and death due to its toxic nature. Associated by some with demonic witchcraft.  
  
_They say a witch lives in those woods. That if you travel northwest, a long, three-days ride to a small village, there lies a large stand of trees a half-day’s walk away where none of the villagers dare enter. The villagers say only the most desperate venture into the woods. That if you brave the path of death and emerge unscathed, you may ask the witch of the woods a favour. And by the ancient magics that bind her, she will grant you a wish. But only to those who can pay her price.  
  
It is this legend that brought Alex Danvers, tired and weary, to the door of a rundown inn in the village of Blue Springs.  
  
“One sol for the night and another to shelter your steed,” came the gruff voice of the innkeeper.  
  
Alex opened her mouth to protest at the ludicrously high price but stopped as she noticed the innkeeper eyeing her finely made wool cloak. After her rushed journey here, she had little energy to barter and would rather pay the fee than be robbed blind in the dead of night by a disgruntled inn keep and his unsavoury friends.  
  
Alex placed the deniers on the counter, the clink of metal on metal cutting through the silence. The innkeeper scratched his greying bread and held each coin to the candlelight before nodding and handing Alex a set of keys.  
  
“They say there is a witch that lives in the woods,” said Alex. “What information do you have?”  
  
The innkeeper’s brows furrowed, and a sharp frown appeared on his weathered face. “There is a witch,” he affirmed. “But only death awaits those who venture into the woods.”  
  
“I am a knight of Midvale and my mission is more important than the fear of death.”  
  
“Knight, king, peasant, beast. The witch does not discriminate.”  
  
“I made a vow to seek the witch of the woods.”  
  
“Then on your head be it.”

* * *

Morning came much too soon for Alex. The early frost crept easily through the loose boards of the inn’s walls, the musty straw mattress and threadbare blanket provided did little to alleviate the cold’s bite. It was a constant reminder of the urgency of her mission with winter soon to arrive.  
  
Alex broke her fast on the last of her bread and hard cheese. She would have to wait until her business with the witch was concluded before she could procure more provisions, as her mission felt increasingly imperative now more than ever.  
  
Sparing no caution, Alex donned her hauberk, shivering as the cold metal easily cut through her linen undergarments. With practiced efficiency, enforced leather greaves were buckled and tied and her surcoat bearing Midvale’s coat of arms was belted securely in place. She fastened her cloak around her neck and slipped on her leather gauntlets before tucking her helmet under her arm and slinging her traveling bag over her shoulder. Alex took a brief moment to center her thoughts, squared her shoulders, and exited the inn, ready to find a witch.

* * *

Alex slowed her steed as the edge of the forest came near. She dismounted and untied her helmet from the saddle. The forest was large, and Alex had little instruction to follow—only mere rumor and legend. But Alex made a vow and would continue forth, despite the many warnings people had given along the way.  
  
It was perhaps only a few hundred paces into the forest when a small, black beast leapt from the bushes and across Alex’s path. Her steed rose up in surprise, but it was a fine, war bred horse and stayed near to its master, allowing Alex to regain hold of its reins.  
  
The black beast emerged from the bushes again, slower this time and clutching a bird in its jaws. Alex relaxed her grip on her sword and blinked down at the cat in her path. The beast paid little heed to Alex and her steed and bounded away deeper into the forest.  
  
Intrigued at the presence of a cat in the forest, Alex followed the black figure through the woods until she happened on a small river with a simple bridge. The cat ran across the bridge and disappeared in the underbrush yet again. Alex looped her mount’s reins around a tree branch, loose enough for a hasty retreat, and approached the bridge.  
  
This had to be the way towards the witch’s house. No villagers would live within this cursed forest and the wood boards of the bridge showed signs of constant repair and care.  
  
Purple flowers caught Alex’s eye and she knelt for a closer look. Its distinctive black berries caused Alex’s hand to halt its path towards the flower. Nightshade. Poisonous. Deadly. A plant useful only to witches.  
  
Alex scanned the forest floor and saw more flowers dotting the way, extending over the bridge and deeper in the woods.  
  
“The path of death,” murmured Alex. She would find this witch of the woods, ask of her a favour, and pay the witch’s price—no matter the cost.

* * *

Alex followed the trail of flowers a short few paces to a clearing in the woods. In this clearing stood a small house. Alex halted. How does one summon a witch? She approached the door and did what any knight would and knocked.  
  
A woman opened the door, not at all like the tales described. Standing a head shorter than Alex, the witch appeared human and near the same age as the knight. Dark brown hair framed a smiling face. “I’ve been expecting a visitor.”  
  
“Your magic must be reach far,” commented Alex.  
  
The witch shook her head and pointed to the cat in the corner of the room, the same beast Alex had followed here. The cat meowed before returning to its task of cleaning feathers from its fur. “My royal scout told me.” The witch chuckled and gave the cat a quick scratch on the head. “Lionne prefers to dine like a queen on the creatures of the air, but I’m content with the lowliest of foods. The vegetable stew for my noon meal has just finished. Have some if you wish, it’s the last harvest until winter.”  
  
Alex eyed the bowl of stew cautiously. She politely declined, recalling the cautionary tales of Old her mother used to tell her, not wishing to be turned into a swine or some other manner of beast.  
  
“If you are not here to enjoy my food or my company, ask,” said the witch. “Everyone who comes here wishes something from me. You only have but to ask. But first remove that helmet of yours, I only make deals with those I can properly see.”  
  
Alex did as the witch bade, removing her helmet and freeing her short locks of auburn hair. If this witch was as powerful as the rumours claimed, a helmet would give little protection.  
  
“My sister is ill. The physicians say there is nothing we can do. I fear she will not make it through the winter. I ask of you a cure to her affliction, magic or otherwise.”  
  
“And who are you to be asking such a thing from me?”  
  
“I am Alex of Midvale, knight to Marquis Danvers.”  
  
“That much is obvious,” frowned the witch, referring to Alex’s surcoat.  
  
“It is Kara Danvers, the marquess’ daughter, my sister, that is ill. With war in the East and disquiet in the south, the King needs our march to stay strong. Kara’s death would weaken the kingdom’s borders.”  
  
“Politics do not concern me, even if you are a Danvers.”  
  
“No king, duke, or lord of any kind sent me. I come on my own accord. My father expressed this was a futile journey and my mother bade me to stay, fearing the legends of the witch of the woods to be true. But I gave my vow to my sister that I would find a way to help her, that I would seek you, the one they say helps the most desperate of people. I cannot bear to watch Kara waste away.”  
  
“You care for your sister.” It wasn’t a question, but a statement.  
  
“She is bright and kind. She is the sunlight breaking through a sea of rain. She makes our march, no, our world better with her presence. I would pay any price you ask. I have livres, land—”  
  
“I do not wish for these things.”  
  
Alex frowned. “My life, then. My heart for your potions. My soul for your spells.”  
  
The witch’s eyes flicked from Alex’s boots to the short-cropped hair of a knight in a way that shook Alex’s resolve. “Contrary to rumours, I have no need of these things for spells or potions.”  
  
“What is it that you ask of me, then?”  
  
The witch gestured Alex to sit, and so Alex did so quicker than if the command came from her marshal on the battlefield. “First, tell me of your sister’s affliction.”  
  
Alex nodded, and spoke of how a sudden weakness befell Kara one day. That her sister, born with magic, was gifted with strength and speed beyond measure yet now even the simplest of actions tasked her. Alex described how a constant fever raged on Kara’s brow and how the pallor of her sister’s skin rivalled the dead. The witch listened quietly, only interjecting when Alex yet again devolved into begging for help.  
  
“I believe I have a cure for your sister.”  
  
“Truly?”  
  
The witch nodded. “But I also have my price.”  
  
“Anything.”  
  
“There is a fabric, stronger than steel and lighter than air.”  
  
Alex thumbed the embroidery at the shoulder of her surcoat, suddenly aware of the silk tunic buried under her layers of armour. “This is all you wish of me?”  
  
“Yes.”  
  
“I have a tunic of silk, gifted to me from my mentor Sir J’onn, procured from the East at great cost. It is said to stop arrows and is no heavier than linen.”  
  
The witch nodded. “This is my price to help your sister.”  
  
“Then I will gladly pay,” said Alex, already removing her gauntlets and unfastening her cloak. Her sword and belt joined her items on the witch’s table and as Alex reached for the hem of her surcoat, she realized the witch had no intention of looking away. Alex paused, unsure if this mild discomfort of prying eyes was also part of the price, or if the witch was merely looking for any signs of trickery on Alex’s part. The witch seemed to understand Alex’s silent query and exited out the front door, leaving Alex to her privacy.  
  
Back in her armour, Alex returned to the witch waiting outside the front door. Alex handed her the tunic and the witch inspected it thoroughly before nodding in approval and setting the garment aside. “Follow me,” bade the witch and set off towards her garden.  
  
Amongst the rows of flowers, vegetables, and other plants still growing despite the looming shadow of winter, stood a small shed built of glass. The witch entered the glasshouse with Alex close behind. Alex marveled at what favours the witch must have granted to procure enough gold to build such a house and what magics the witch must possess to keep it warm in absence of a fire.  
  
“You said your sister was akin to sunlight,” started the witch, caressing a rounded flower painted in a brilliant, fiery orange and yellow. “This flower is said to follow the sun across the sky. Take its petals and brew a broth for your sister to drink every day when the sun is strongest. A spell of rebirth during winter is difficult, but if you clean her room spotless and drive the old air from every corner, new bed linens, new pillows, then it can be done.”  
  
Alex stared down at the flowers in her hand in disbelief. “Her illness, it cannot be so simple as to be solved with a flower and a clean room?”  
  
“You’ve journeyed here and paid your price. You have your instructions, Sir knight. Any magic needed has been given.”  
  
Alex clutched the bouquet of flowers close to her heart and nodded. “Thank you.” She refrained from sprinting back to her horse, eager to return to her sister and praying it was not too late. But as Alex crossed through the garden, she halted and turned around. The witch, watching her leave, seemed surprised.  
  
“I cannot leave without knowing your name,” said Alex.  
  
“Not many dared ask,” said the witch, a smile playing on her lips, as if delighted to be asked the question.  
  
“At least tell me for my sister. She will inquire as to who helped her. I cannot in good conscious say ‘witch.’ For that is a foul name not befitting of one such as you.”  
  
The witch’s smile had blossomed full as the flowers in her glasshouse. “Maggie. You may call me Maggie.”  
  
Alex returned the smile, certain she could feel Maggie’s sun magic already coursing through her veins, a ball of fire igniting in Alex’s heart as bright as the curative flowers in her hands. “Farewell, Lady Maggie of the Woods.”  
  
“Farewell Sir Danvers of Midvale, may we meet again. In this life, or another.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next up: Alex may have Kara's cure in her hand, but Maggie is still on her mind.
> 
> Historical tidbits:  
>  _Food rankings_ – A food item’s importance in the Middle Ages was measured by its closeness to heaven. Highest ranking foods like pheasants, ducks, and other birds that lived amongst the sky were reserved for nobility, while foods like onions and turnips that grew under the earth were eaten by peasants. [ [5] ](https://books.google.com/books?id=Bq2zM9JS7-gC&pg=PT7&lpg=PT7&dq=medieval+meals+birds+heaven&source=bl&ots=4vXvBZHtkl&sig=ACfU3U0uxLc5Y70PjhPGdWYg3-pE9Jz8nA&hl=en&sa=X&ved=2ahUKEwjhpqWh7ebmAhUWsp4KHdtcCeQQ6AEwCHoECA0QAQ#v=onepage&q&f=false) Lionne is indeed a queen :)
> 
>  _Greenhouses_ – The concept of greenhouses have existed since Roman times, around 30 AD, which legend has it, allowed for Emperor Tiberius to eat a cucumber-like vegetable every day. They were designed as wheeled carts with houses glazed in either oiled cloth or sheets of selenite (a transparent crystal) that were put in the sun daily, then taken inside to keep warm at night.[ [6] ](https://www.rimolgreenhouses.com/blog/the-first-greenhouses-from-rome-to-america) [ [7] ](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Greenhouse) It took until the 16th century for the first modern greenhouses to appear in Italy. The rudimentary design soon spread to the Netherlands, then to England in the 17th century and finally by the 18th century, Jules Charles, a French botanist, was credited with building the first practical, modern greenhouse in Holland..[ [8]](https://www.newworldencyclopedia.org/entry/Greenhouse) Hmm… Let’s just say Maggie was a bit ahead of her time… Good thing I’m writing fanfiction, and not a history dissertation! 
> 
> _Glass_ – During the Middle Ages, glass windows were only available to the very wealthy, but they lacked the technology to make large glass panes. Instead, crown glass windows were assembled from small, flat disks of glass held together with pieces of lead.[ [9]](https://www.quora.com/Were-there-windows-in-every-home-during-the-Middle-Ages) [ [10]](https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Crown_glass_\(window\)) [ [11]](https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/History_of_glass#Medieval_Europe). Sufficient enough for a rich and powerful witch to make a greenhouse, I’d say!


	2. Hawthorn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alex returns home, Kara is eager to hear of her travels--and of this mysterious woodland witch. Plus, a conspiracy is uncovered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick lil' update while we're all still in quarantine, enjoy!

**Hawthorn** _— A thorny bush used to mark out the borders of gardens and properties. A symbol of cautious hope. When ingested as an infusion, it regulates the heartbeat and combats shortness of breath.  
  
_ Alex Danvers would brave the legends of the witch of the woods, the endless chastising from her mother, or her father’s stern disapproval ten times over all to see her sister’s face light up.  
  
“You’ve returned to me alive!” Too weak to leave the bed for her usual enthusiastic greeting of a hug to knock her sister off her feet, Alex was content in seeing Kara strong enough to smile and offer a small wave.  
  
“Did I not promise you I would?” asked Alex, seating herself on the edge of Kara’s bed.  
  
“Father and mother were furious when they learned you had left.”  
  
“Yes, they were certain to remind me of that fact upon my return.”  
  
“Did you meet her? The witch of the woods?”  
  
“I did.”  
  
“What was she like? Did she have talons for teeth? Dragon scales for skin? An army of wolves at her command?”  
  
Alex laughed. “You have quite the fantastical mind. But no, she was none of those things. She was actually rather beautiful.”  
  
“Beautiful? Deceptively so? Like the sirens of Old?”  
  
“No, she is human. I believe she is a human blessed with magic and cursed by people who do not understand.”  
  
Kara squinted at her sister, looking to find some changeling mark. “I fear she’s placed a concealment spell on your mind.”  
  
“Perhaps,” laughed Alex. “But she has also given me the cure to your illness. If a hex is another price I must pay, then so be it. For your health and happiness, I would give anything.”  
  
“You must give some thought to yourself,” chided Kara.  
  
“Very well,” smiled Alex, adjusting Kara’s pillow so she could better sit up.  
  
“Tell me, what did this beautiful witch—”  
  
“Maggie.”  
  
Kara halted, a confused furrow in her brow appearing.  
  
“Maggie, the witch of the woods. Her name is Maggie.”  
  
“Are you sure you’ve not been hexed, Alex?” questioned Kara with a small head shake of admonishment. “Very well. This _Maggie_ , what did she give you?”  
  
“Flowers as brilliant as the sun, to make a curative broth. And instructions, to clean your room and make way for rebirth.” Alex paused, thumbing the embroidery on her tunic near her heart. “And a piece of her magic, to see it all through.”  
  
“And her price? Please, Alex, tell me you did not pay too dearly for me.”  
  
Alex shook her head. “She asked only for my silk tunic.”  
  
“A strange request, but will this work? Will I be cured?”  
  
“I believe so. I am unsure why, but I trust Maggie.”  
  
“Oh dear, you _have_ been bewitched.”  
  
Alex chuckled and gave Kara as light of a shove as she dared. “Quiet now. The kitchen will bring up the first of your broth to drink and I will return after the noon meal to assist the servants in cleaning your room. Then soon you will be better. I promise.”

* * *

“We don’t know for certain who planted that stone or how long it had been there,” said Alex, pacing back and forth past the glowing green stone in question.  
  
“It was found hidden under a brick under Kara’s bed. This was no accident. Someone with access to the castle placed it there,” said Marquis Jeremiah Danvers, his rage barely concealed. “One of our own. A servant perhaps.”  
  
“What servant has access to such powerful magics to imbue a stone that would drain the life from Kara and not from others?” questioned Marquise Elisa Danvers.  
  
“A servant may have had the opportunity, but this was more than spite. A larger force conducted this,” said Alex.  
  
A silence washed over the trio as they stared intently down at the pulsing, green stone on the table.  
  
“Luthor,” growled Jeremiah. “His cursed diplomatic party arrived only days before Kara fell ill.”  
  
“We cannot be so rash in our deductions,” countered Elisa. “Our march serves to protect our borders, not start wars. And with the conflict in the East— ”  
  
“To hell with the war in the East! The Luthors are connected with that as well, with that snake Lex at its head. I am certain of it. The King would be pleased if we wiped their entire duchy from this world. They are no doubt aiding our enemies. This tentative _alliance_ we have with our southern neighbors is a fallacy.”  
  
“They provide the kingdom with valuable metals to fight the war. The King would not be pleased if we break the trade alliance with Duc Luthor over this matter. Kara is improving, the physicians say there is no lasting damage.”  
  
“What’s to say the duke will not strike again? Now that he has proven he can attack our daughter in our own home?”  
  
“Father, allow me to—,” interjected Alex.  
  
“No, you have done enough. Riding away to search after a witch against my direct orders to stay. You should be scrubbing privies for your disobedience.”  
  
“Did the witch not help Kara?”  
  
“At what price?” growled Jeremiah.  
  
Alex scoffed. “My silk tunic means little in comparison to my sister’s life.”  
  
“I did not think you so naïve. Magic is never straightforward. That witch took more than a tunic but we laymen are not wise to what destruction she has wrought until it is too late.” Jeremiah balled his fist and took a long, steadying breath. The embers of rage still burned in his eyes, but his voice was calmer as he continued. “We will discuss this magical stone after independent thought, and only then will an action be executed.” Jeremiah strode out of the room, door closing harshly behind him.  
  
Alex resisted the impulse to run after her father and force him to allow her on a mission to the Luthor’s duchy. Instead she looked down at the small, green rock and wondered how such a thing could cause so much pain.  
  
“He is merely worried.” Elisa’s voice broke through Alex’s thoughts. “When you had left to seek the witch, we believed we had lost both daughters. That Kara would succumb to her illness and you would perish in your attempt to find a cure.”  
  
“But none of that came to pass. And now there is someone who means our family ill will. We must protect ourselves from this threat.”  
  
“Ever the knight, my dear Alex,” cooed Elisa, enveloping her daughter in a hug. “Our march is in a precarious position. There is a reason why the King maintains soldiers here despite the war in the East. There are reasons even your father and I are not privy to. Disrupting this delicate balance could put the whole kingdom at risk and it is a responsibility your father and I do not take lightly.”  
  
“I cannot in good conscience stand idly by while someone paints a target on our back.”  
  
“Yet taking action now will cause the target to be painted more swiftly, so much so that we would have little time to prepare defenses. Inaction is the best form of action for this situation.”  
  
Alex sighed. “Very well.”

* * *

Alex found her feet carrying her towards the archery range before her mind had time to comprehend. She understood her father’s command. She understood that sending a spy to investigate the Luthors would disrupt the valuable agreement with them for their money and metals for the war. But Alex believed it was not enough to merely investigate their own castle for flaws and interrogate their own servants.  
  
The arrows found their mark one after another. The rhythmic load, draw, pull, and release calmed Alex’s need for doing something more than merely wait.  
  
“Alex.” Kara’s voice startled the knight and her last arrow flew high off its mark and into the tall wooden board behind it. “Training to slay giants, I see,” teased her sister.  
  
“A knight must prepare for any battle,” quipped Alex, setting her bow down and turning to face Kara with a smile. “It warms my heart to see you so well so soon.”  
  
“It was as if the moment the stone left my room, my strength began to return.”  
  
“There is no doubt the stone contains strong magics. They may have conflicted with the magic in your blood.”  
  
“There were servants who looked after me born with magic who did not suffer as I did.”  
  
“Father believes it to be an attack by Duc Luthor, to what end we do not know. But he has forbade me from investigating further and has tasked me with interrogating the staff and combing the castle for possible routes of unintended entry.”  
  
“Father does what he thinks best for our march and for the kingdom.”  
  
“Yet the idiotic web of politics prevents him from doing just that.”  
  
“Alex,” reprimanded Kara.  
  
“I know,” sighed Alex. “Have you heard? He will also announce a winter ball to be held in two month’s time to celebrate your recovery. It will be a grand feast to show our strength in times of hardship. More political nonsense,” scoffed Alex.  
  
“Do not discount him so quickly. He has successfully upheld our borders for decades and is in favour with the King. I believe we can trust his decisions in such matters.”  
  
Alex placed a hand on her sister’s shoulder. “You speak with the wisdom of our father, the temperament of our mother, and a compassion wholly your own. I am so very glad you are well. I have missed you.”  
  
Kara chuckled. “Then you should go thank your very _beautiful_ witch of the woods.”  
  
Alex smiled. “Yet again displaying wisdom beyond your years! Yes, I do believe a show of gratitude is in order.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next up: Alex is in need of another magical favour, although this one isn't as dire (and is perhaps just an excuse to visit). 
> 
> Historical tidbits:  
>  _Silk_ – Genghis Khan was once said to have issued all his horsemen with silk vests, as an arrow, even if barbed, does not break upon hitting it, but instead ends up wrapped in silk embedded in the flesh and allows for its relatively easy removal. [ [12]](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mongolian_armour) With Genghis Khan’s reign spanning 1206-1227, the Silk Road fully open for business in Europe, and a little magic of fiction, Sir J’onn could have definitely gotten his hands on a mithril-level silk tunic 
> 
> _Calendula_ – a rounded, yellow flower that is a relative of marigold. Known also as the “herb of the sun” because its flowers open in the morning and close in the evening. Used since the Middle Ages for its anti-inflammatory and skin healing benefits. [ [13] ](https://www.modernbotany.com/modernbotanist/2017/5/10/calendula)


	3. Cinquefoil

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alex gives Maggie a gift and the winter ball has arrived, but who's that skulking in the shadows?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Vocabulary notes:  
>  _Aketon_ – also called a gambeson, padded jack, or arming doublet. It is a padded defensive jacket, worn as armor separately or under mail or plate armour. Doubled as a winter coat. [ [14]](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gambeson)
> 
>  _Count/Countess_ – also known as an Earl. Count was often an honorary title given by a monarch for services rendered. Only some counts were granted land, usually a small area called a county or countship, but some counties rivalled duchies for size. Known as a Comte/Comtesse in French. [ [4]](http://getasword.com/blog/300-nobility-titles-and-ranks-in-medieval-europe/)

**Cinquefoil** _– Owes its name to the number of petals—five, like the fingers on a hand. From a medicinal point of view, it was used from Antiquity in the form of pastes or decoctions to fight illnesses of the digestive tract, calm fever, and stop bleeding. It is also an important symbol in heraldry, decorating the coats of arms of the great families of northwest France.  
  
_Alex Danvers was certain she had overturned every stone in the castle, repaired every drafty window, and questioned every servant a hundred times over in the month’s leading up to the winter ball. She had been exceedingly busy with her father’s orders and with readying the castle for visitors. But with every passing day, Alex reminded herself she had yet to revisit Maggie in the woods and give her her thanks for curing Kara.  
  
A few weeks before the ball, an opportunity presented itself and Alex, eager to spend time outside of the castle walls, hastily informed her parents she was to go get a set of special supplies. Packing only the essentials for a three-days ride northwest, Alex donned her warmest boots, woolen stockings, and fur-lined gloves. Despite knowing Maggie was not a threat, Alex chose to wear her quilted aketon, stuffed with warm wool and linen to fend off the bitter cold, before wrapping herself in her heavy cloak and setting off into the winter landscape.  
  
The snow slowed her journey and Alex arrived in the village of Blue Springs after a frigid four-days ride. Night was falling fast, as it did in the short days of winter, and Alex had no choice but to seek shelter at the inn yet again. And as Alex entered the rundown inn, brushing snow from her cloak, the same innkeeper greeted her. “So, you lived.”  
  
“Indeed. I braved the path of death, asked my favour, and completed my mission. And now I return to do it all again.”  
  
The innkeeper eyed her suspiciously, running a hand through his greying beard, thicker now since she last saw him. “Luck was on your side to not pay the witch’s price with your life.”  
  
“Luck had little to do with it. Her price was more reasonable than a night at your inn.”  
  
The innkeeper grumbled. “Very well. One sol, for both you and your steed.”  
  
“This inn is barely worth half that. Six deniers for the both of us, or my next favour to the witch will concern you.”  
  
“I’ve heard the snow makes for a comfortable bed.”  
  
“And I’ve heard a knight’s favour is a valuable one to have.”  
  
The innkeeper glowered at Alex before glancing over to his one and only patron, fast asleep by the fire, holding a worn and dented copper mug. “Six deniers, then,” he grunted.  
  
Alex smiled in triumph and handed the innkeeper her coins, eager for morning to come, and with it the ability to seek out Maggie.

* * *

As Alex entered the forest, she was immediately grateful for the trees that blocked the bitter winds. Despite not having a cat to follow as guide, and with the nightshade flowers dormant under sheets of snow, Alex remembered the way to Maggie’s house in the forest clearing. She crossed the bridge and strode up to the door, fist poised to knock. But something stopped her. Was she mad for coming here again? She traveled here in the middle of winter, to a place many would not dare enter once, let alone twice, merely to say thank you. Was there a magical law that forbade her from seeking a witch of the woods a second time? Was her first visit an apparition or a trick of the mind? Would this house and clearing vanish like smoke when she knocked?  
  
Alex was startled out of her spiraling thoughts when the door opened on its open accord. “You were making yourself look like a fool, just standing there in place,” smiled Maggie.  
  
Alex hastily lowered her hand that never completed its knock. A blush spread on her cheeks, no doubt from the warmth of the indoors rushing out to greet the cold, and not at all from the odd half-smile adorning Maggie’s lips.  
  
“Lady Maggie. I have come to give my gratitude. My sister is well thanks to your flowers and your spell of rebirth.”  
  
“Few dare to enter here, even fewer ask my name, but you, Sir Danvers, are the first to return.” Maggie shook her head in disbelief. “And not to ask another favour, but to give thanks. A rarity indeed.” Maggie opened the door wider and gestured for Alex to enter.  
  
Alex removed her cloak, apologizing repeatedly for the pile of snow that followed with it, puddling at the entrance. She took a seat at the table, followed by Maggie. “When we last met, you did not wish for gold or other riches,” started Alex. “And so, I pondered what gift to give a witch who can conjure their heart’s desires from thin air. It is not much,” said Alex, untying the small pouch at her waste and sliding it over to Maggie.  
  
Maggie carefully opened the pouch, a persistent quirk in her eyebrow. “It is usually I who give gifts.”  
  
“Consider it an addition to my silk tunic, if you must.”  
  
“It is exquisite,” gasped Maggie, holding the pendent up to light. The deep reds and yellows were amplified by the fire light and the silver inlays glinted in its warmth.  
  
“You brought back the sunshine to Midvale with a simple flower, I only hoped to share a piece of that with you,” said Alex thumbing the stitching on her tunic, and desperately willing her voice to remain steady. “I saved one of the flowers you gave me and brought it to our alchemist, Winn. He concocted a special blend to stain the glass—Purple of Cassius, Glass of antimony, and another substance he refused to tell me. I had our best glass craftsman create the likeness of the flower and a silversmith added the inlay and attached it to a chain.”  
  
“I… words elude me. Thank you.”  
  
“It is merely a small token of thanks.”  
  
“Small token? I wonder to know what amount of thought and time would go into a grand gesture.” Maggie slipped the pendant around her neck. “It is beautiful.”  
  
“Indeed,” smiled Alex, not at all looking at the pendant.  
  
“Would you care to stay for noon meal? I haven’t much, but a farmer paid me in honey, of which I still have a jar. The bread is fresh from this morning and I have a good storage of cheese for the winter.”  
  
Alex wanted nothing more than to say yes, and then proceed to stay forever, but she could not neglect her duties. “I… If you do not mind my company I would be honored to stay, but I must start my journey home soon after. I promised my father I would be home in a week’s time, and the snow will lengthen my return trip.”

* * *

Alex enjoyed her meal as slowly as possible, trying to savour her time with Maggie. She wasn’t certain what fascinated her so about the witch, but she wanted to spend every moment with her to attempt to discover why.  
  
The two talked of mostly nonsensical things anywhere from the best room of the castle to view a sunset from to the growing season of beets. Alex collected every fact about Maggie, no matter how small, like precious gems and stored them carefully away in the treasury of her mind.  
  
“The day grows late,” said Alex with a frown. The time passed more quickly than she would have liked. “I must leave, but perhaps… Well, if I may be so bold… I would like to see you again.”  
  
“And I you,” said Maggie. Alex made to grab her cloak, but Maggie stopped her. “Wait, Sir Knight. The magic of this land. It… It requires that all who enter ask of me a favour that I can grant.”  
  
Alex quirked her eyebrow, a sudden thought crossed her mind, and with it a rush of nervous heartbeats. “My father, he is hosting a winter ball. There will be music, festivities, more food than one can imagine. My favour would be that you accompany me.”  
  
Maggie sat in silence, a furrow of consternation on her brow.  
  
“Our family’s friend, Comte Olsen has a small county ship northeast of our march. It houses only two villages. I could introduce you as a resident of that land. James, Comte Olsen, he would gladly support the ruse. No one need know you are the witch of the woods,” said Alex in an attempt to assuage Maggie.  
  
“I… It is a kind favour to ask, but I wish to remain unseen for now. Please ask of me another favour.”  
  
Alex bit her lip, unsure of why a simple rejection to a harmless invitation stung so badly. “Very well.” Perhaps, thought Alex, if she asked a demand so great, Maggie would reconsider. “Then I wish for my father’s approval.”  
  
Maggie tilted her head to the side, lost in thought for a moment, before smiling. “I believe I can grant your wish.”  
  
Alex’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. How foolish of her to think Maggie would not be powerful enough to grant her such a wish. And as Maggie turned around to grab something, Alex took a moment to rest her face in the palm of her hand. Certainly, being made a fool was the penance for trying to be so underhanded after Maggie declined her first request. Alex reprimanded herself for her brief behaviour not befitting of a knight and struggled to regain her composure as Maggie turned back around to face her, a small handful of dried flower buds in her hand.  
  
“For your father’s approval, I gift you with cinnamon flowers. Present these to your chef and the spell will be complete.”  
  
“I…” Alex extended her hand and took the spices. “Thank you.”  
  
“Do not forget each favour comes with a price.”  
  
Alex’s mouth quirked in a smile. “Asking me to request a wish, then demanding payment? My, Lady Maggie, you run a hard bargain.”  
  
Maggie shrugged and cast her eyes to the side before replying. “Best not to trifle with magical laws.”  
  
“Indeed,” hummed Alex. “But as always, I will gladly pay the price. What is it you ask?”  
  
“Take these seeds,” said Maggie, handing Alex a small leather pouch. “At the first melt of snow, plant them within your castle’s garden.”  
  
“That is all you ask?” Maggie nodded. “Then it shall be done.”  
  
Alex secured both the spices and seeds in a pouch in her saddle bags and turned back to the house, where Maggie stood waving in the door. “Farewell, Sir Danvers. Until we meet again!”

* * *

The winter ball was a wonderous affair. The great hall was filled with both the people of Midvale March and its surrounding areas. Wine and ale flowed freely, and plates topped with food, generously seasoned with cinnamon and ginger, never remained empty. The chef had even prepared a special recipe imported from the East that Kara adored so. Which is where Alex found her sister, doing her best to deplete the stock of her favorite food.  
  
“I am often amazed by the magic in your blood when you lift men twice your size, or catch arrows for fun, but never am I so amazed at your magic than the quantity of food you can consume.”  
  
“You’re only jealous that I am allowed to enjoy so many more sweets than you,” joked Kara.  
  
“Yes, it does seem chocolate tarts fuel your magic,” said Alex, echoing the line they’d yell as children after robbing the pantry and having the chef chase them through the halls.  
  
“Father is extremely pleased with your work; the castle has never been more secure. And bringing home cinnamon flowers, what a grand and clever display of wealth. When you first left to fetch this ‘special supply,’ Father was certain it was a ruse to investigate the Luthors, but…” Kara trailed off. “I do not think he will say it, but he is proud of your restraint.”  
  
Alex blinked. Yet again Maggie had done the impossible, granting her wish with only a flower.  
  
“Father said you would not disclose the source of the spices, but I think the smile on your face at your return was telling enough. You let that witch of the woods put another hex on you.”  
  
“No hexes. I gave her my thanks for saving your life and in turn she gave me cinnamon for the winter ball, and a request to plant a parcel of seeds when the snow melts.”  
  
“Magical seeds that will grow a great vine to climb into the sky and fight giants?”  
  
Alex chuckled. “No, I do not believe so. They are merely flowers.”  
  
“How can you be so certain?”  
  
“Because they came from Maggie,” stated Alex as if it was the clearest answer she could give.  
  
“Yes, well, perhaps your Maggie could grant me a spell of invisibility,” grumbled Kara, starting into the crowd.  
  
“Why do you—Oh,” said Alex, following her sister’s gaze.  
  
“After Duc Luthor declined the invitation, Father invited the Luthors’ allies instead: Duc Lar Gand, his wife Rhea, and naturally his _son_.”  
  
“You enjoyed his company at one point.”  
  
“And then I grew up. And I had believed we ended things quite clearly, yet…” Kara shook her head and pushed her plate of unfinished food towards Alex. “If I get trapped in conversation with Mon-El it will never cease. Winn is probably in his laboratory, assuming it is not filled with smoke or on fire. I will find refuge there and keep Winn company.”  
  
Alex nodded. “And I should ensure the guards are adapting well to their new watches.”

* * *

Alex paced the ramparts, trying to keep warm. Her finest tunic dyed in deep royal blues and reds of her family’s colors, while perfect for balls such as this, did little to keep out the biting wind. Alex knew she should have donned a cloak, least she catch her death, but heavier things weighed on her mind that she wished to resolve before returning to the warmth of the castle.  
  
If Duc Luther was truly responsible for Kara’s illness, then the Luthors must have a powerful sorcerer in their employ. The tentative alliance between the Danvers and the Luthors was only by decree of the King to secure resources for the war in the East, with the Luthors gaining little in way of compensation. Perhaps Lex has grown bitter from his constant obligations to provide for a King that is not his own. Alex frowned. Lex was a cunning tactician; his motives would be stronger than a simple grudge. There was much she did not know, and that was what bothered her most.  
  
Alex looked to the northwest, to the crop of trees she was unable to see but knew was there. And then there was Maggie. Alex thumbed the small, embroidered crest on her tunic. The witch had caught her very much by surprise and despite the many warnings from her father and others alike, she did not see how ill will could come of Maggie’s magic.  
  
Alex stamped her feet in an attempt to drive warmth back to her legs. It was freezing and she was accomplishing little by pacing the ramparts in the cold.  
  
A bolt of movement caught Alex’s eye as she made her way towards the stairs that lead back to the heart of the castle. The torches cast dancing shadows and the light of the half moon was little help, but she was certain someone was sneaking about.  
  
The parade sword at her hip provided barely more protection than an ornate toothpick, but she drew it none the less. “By order of the marquess, show yourself!” ordered Alex.  
  
And if summoned from the very shadows, a figure emerged into the firelight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next up: The mysterious figure is revealed and the conspiracy deepens.
> 
> Historical tidbits:  
>  _Glass staining_ – During medieval times, stained glass windows were made from a combination of sand and potash, they were heated until liquified then powdered metals were added into the molten mixture before it cooled. [ [15] ](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Stained_glass) For example, Purple of Cassius was formed from a reaction of gold salts and tin(II) chloride and used to give glass a red colour. Glass of antimony is a yellow to red translucent glass. [ [16] ](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_alchemical_substances)
> 
> _Spices_ – By the 14th century in France, buyers of spices, apart from the poorest, came from all social categories, but which type of spice depended, naturally, on how wealthy one was. Cinnamon bark was a major spice of the time and when paired with ginger was considered a favourite of French medieval cooking. Cinnamon flowers, though, were rarer and valued much higher, costing five times as much as its bark counterpart. [ [17] ](https://www.oldcook.com/en/medieval-spices)
> 
> _Potstickers_ – Called _guotie_ in Chinese. These delicious parcels of food have been enjoyed since the Song dynasty (960 to 1280 AD) and legend has it they were invented by a chef in China’s royal court who was boiling dumplings in a wok ( _guo_ ) and forgot about them. After the water boiled away, the dumplings were stuck ( _tie_ ). Nonetheless, the chef pried the dumplings off the wok and served them, much to the delight of his guests. [ [18]](https://www.mybluprint.com/article/cooking-pot-stickers)


	4. St. John's Wort

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The stage is set.

**St. John's Wort** _– Also called “Saint John’s herb.” It is a symbol of animosity, but also one of protection and light. It is considered a remedy to melancholy and other mental afflictions  
  
_The figure was garbed in dark fabrics, a hooded cloak concealed any defining features. Alex cursed herself even more for not at least having donned her own cloak. She had no shield, was wearing no hauberk or aketon, or armour of any sort. She lacked even a simple cloak to tangle her opponents blade in. Nevertheless, Alex stood tall, unwilling to show her clear disadvantage to this mysterious figure.  
  
“Halt. Identify yourself.”  
  
The figure’s gloved hand reached for the cowl of their hood and Alex tensed, ready for a fight. The hood fell around the figure’s neck and the flickering torch light revealed—  
  
“Lena Luthor?” asked Alex, unable to conceal the surprise in her voice. “What business brings you to our march?”  
  
“Do you not recall? Your _father_ Marquis Danvers extended an invite to Duc Luthor and his family. I’m his sister, after all.”  
  
“Yes, and _Lex_ declined our invitation. Nevertheless, it was an invitation to the winter ball, not to sulk in the shadows of our ramparts. I ask again: what business do you have here?”  
  
“My brother is planning something.”  
  
“That much is obvious.”  
  
“No, something even I am not privy to. I know he planted the green stone that caused your sister’s bout of illness.” Alex’s hand tightened dangerously on the hilt of her sword. “And the magic used to create the stone is only the beginning. He has plans that extend further than just to your march. Of what, I do not know, but it does not bode well for the rest of the world.”  
  
“Why are you here? Why tell me this? Your brother would see this as a betrayal.”  
  
“Perhaps. But our familial ties and loyalties are… complicated.”  
  
“How can I trust anything you say?”  
  
“You cannot, but I know my brother does not have the… purest of intensions. I know you have no reason to believe me, but I have spent my life struggling to free myself of the shadow my family name brings.”  
  
“I could arrest you, for trespassing and espionage.”  
  
Lena arched an eyebrow. “With that tin sword? It’s not even sharp.”  
  
“Neither is a rock,” snarled Alex. “But it is still effective in crushing pests.”  
  
“Hear me, Sir Danvers, I only came to your march to ensure my brother was not doing the same.”  
  
“That is ludicrous logic.”  
  
Lena shrugged. “Believe what you will, but there are far more pressing battles to fight than the one between us now.”  
  
Alex sheathed her sword begrudgingly. “You are free to go, only because both Lex and my father will have my head if I imprison you now. But know that you are under close watch.”  
  
Lena nodded, replacing her hood around her head. “I expect nothing less from a Knight of Midvale.” She turned to leave but halted midway through. “Oh, and do keep careful watch over your sister. Lex knows of her magic and he is looking to take it for himself.”  
  
“Death find him if he tries,” growled Alex.

* * *

Alex watched Lena slink back into the shadows, denying every muscle in her body the urge to chase after her. Alex balled her hands in fists and took a steadying breath. In mere moments, Lena had confirmed and heightened her fears and destroyed months of work by slipping past her guard.  
  
To hell with responsibility. To hell with playing the loyal daughter. It only brought more troubles with no sight of a solution.  
  
Alex sprinted down the stairs and through the many corridors to the great hall. Her hands were still numb from the cold, but her blood boiled from her encounter with Lena. Surely, by this hour, there was someone drunk enough to duel her. And afterwards she knew her father had stocked more than enough ale for the winter ball.

* * *

The pounding in Alex’s head rivaled even the marching of ten thousand men. She found herself tangled in her bedsheets, on the floor, still in her ornate tunic and wearing only one of her boots. Alex ran a hand through her disheveled hair and struggled to remember the night as she slowly picked herself off the floor.  
  
There was Rick Malverne, the only one stupid enough to accept a duel from Alex. And she remembered knocking him cold in one punch. Then she’s sure she stole a jug of father’s strongest wine and secreted down to Winn’s laboratory… Alex fumbled to dress herself in new clothes to start her search for a cup of water and perhaps a slice of bread to quiet her stomach. Small, torn bits of recollection continued to flow into her memory. There was pink smoke? And maybe a fire? Did she start that or was it already there? And… a drunken horse race around the castle?  
  
As Alex started her slow trek to the kitchen, she could only hope she did not make too much of a fool of herself last night.  
  
Kara’s overtly sunny disposition hit Alex like a kick to ribs. “Quite the party last night,” beamed Kara.  
  
Alex groaned and reached for her mug, nursing the god’s nectar of cold, crisp water. “Yes, yes.”  
  
“Everyone seemed to enjoy themselves.” Alex hummed in agreement. “And I even managed to weasel Winn out of his laboratory, if only for one dance. You should have seen Mon-El’s face.”  
  
“Yes, very good, Kara,” mumbled Alex.  
  
“I can’t believe even Lena Luthor came too—”  
  
Alex nearly choked on her next sip of water. “Did you say Lena Luthor?” asked Alex through a series of coughs.  
  
“Yes, she said that she spoke to you.”  
  
“When…When did she visit with you?”  
  
“Ah, well, you were busy punching Rick and breaking into father’s storeroom of wine at that time, so I thought I’d entertain our guest.”  
  
“This isn’t a laughing matter,” scolded Alex, the weariness from last night leaving her body in a rush. “I found her spying on our affairs. When confronted, she offered dangerous news about Lex and only the gods know what plans she herself has.”  
  
“I’d say she is a poor spy if she was spotted by both of us. Lex has never taken kindly to our family and has ambitions that far outweigh his stature. It is quite easy to believe that he either created or commissioned that green stone. I am inclined to believe Lena’s information.”  
  
“Kara, take caution. You are too quick to trust at times.”  
  
“And you threw your left boot at me when we insisted it would be insane to ride to Blue Springs and attempt to invite Maggie to the party again. You missed, in case you wondered. You missed and it sailed over the ramparts and into the tall weeds.”  
  
“So that is where my boot went…” mumbled Alex. “Regardless,” she said. “We know not what the Luthors have planned. I do not think it wise to ally with Lex’s sister.”  
  
“You yourself said you believed Maggie to be a human blessed with magic and cursed by people who do not understand. Well I believe the same of Lena. She was cursed by her family’s name and only wishes to do good on this world. Need I remind you that she has not been under the duke’s rule for a number of years. Her countship rivals that of Lex’s duchy and those who live within her lands are well taken care of, thriving due to her advancements in the alchemical arts. She came to us at great risk of her own life to warn us of her brother’s plan.”  
  
“And yet we still know nothing of her brother’s plan.”  
  
“Have heart, Alex, I think Lena speaks the truth.”  
  
“And I will tactfully reserve judgment.”  
  
“So be it, but I _will_ find evidence to legitimize my claim.”  
  
Alex sighed and rubbed the nape of her neck. There was no stopping her sister when Kara put her mind to it. “Please be careful.”

* * *

“I advise you not to touch that,” rang Lena’s voice through the laboratory.  
  
Kara startled, having thought the space empty. She snatched her hand back, quick as lightning, and cradled it as if it were burnt. “Sorry, I was merely—”  
  
“Infiltrating my castle? Stealing my secrets? Spying on my affairs?”  
  
“No,” stammered Kara, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear and fidgeting with the hem of her tunic. “What you said about your brother was of great concern to both me and my sister. And she… so I thought I could find something that would enlighten us—me, further.”  
  
“Consider your mission a success,” said Lena, descending the stairs and walking over to one of the many desks within the room. “As I have said time and time again, I do not wish to follow in my brother’s footsteps. Was there a time when I was proud to carry the Luthor name? Yes. As a child, Lex was my hero. An orphan adopted into a royal family was unheard of. I was given a roof over my head and all the amenities befitting of royalty. I thought I had a family. But then I witnessed his forcible seizure of power of the southern states, how the King of our realm turned a blind eye to the death and destruction he wrought. Afterwards, I claimed the county gifted to me by our King and vowed to work towards undoing my brother’s damage.”  
  
Lena manipulated a series of hidden slides under the table housing a number of clay jars and crucibles and pulled a book from a secret drawer. “Here, take this ledger. It contains all the information my spies have gathered about Lex’s plans. His laboratory is hidden deep under his castle and we have yet to access it and the little information gleaned is buried in layers of code. I have managed to decipher some, but it is still largely incomplete.”  
  
“You spy on your own brother?”  
  
“Just as he spies on me. We Luthors are raised to be suspicious of everyone—even our own kin.”  
  
Kara tipped the book in thanks. “I appreciate your help. Perhaps we can work on solving the mystery of your brother together.”  
  
“Perhaps, but I would think that your father would not be pleased that you are so directly involved with Luthor affairs. Your king values the treaty between our land and his too greatly to risk upsetting it.”  
  
“Of that you are correct,” grumbled Kara. “No, I am here on my own accord. Not even my sister has been informed of this…visit. And I intend to keep it as such. Their worry would simply hinder the pursuit of truth.”  
  
Lena glanced over Kara once more, re-assessing the person before her with a dash of surprise. “Very well then, Kara Danvers. I look forward to the continuation of this collaboration.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next up: Date ideas: Dinner and a movie? Out. Uncovering sinister plots of world domination? In. 
> 
> Also, Alex is running out of excuses to visit Maggie, but that doesn't stop her.


	5. Daffodil

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just GALS bein’ PALS. Buildin’ bridges and crackin’ codes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> May I offer you some soft gays in these trying times?
> 
> Vocabulary notes:  
>  _Alembic and cucurbit_ – An alembic is an alchemical distilling apparatus consisting of two vessels connected by a tube, where the cucurbit is the pot containing the liquid to be distilled. [ [19] ](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Alembic)
> 
> _Magnum Opus_ – “The Great Work.” In alchemy, it is a term for the process of working with _prima materia_ , or ‘first matter’ to create the philosopher’s stone.
> 
>  _Studium generale_ – the old customary name for a university in medieval Europe
> 
>  _Dubbin_ – a greasy mixture of tallow and oil applied to leather to soften it and make it waterproof
> 
>  _Bec de corbin_ – a type of pronged war hammer (more detail in historical tidbits)

**Daffodil** – _It is said that it grew from the remains of Narcissus, a mythological figure who died while looking at his own reflection. It symbolizes egoism and selfishness.  
  
_Despite the ill tidings that the winter ball brought, little action could be observed coming from the south and business with the Luthor duchy remained the same. Although, Alex couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something brewing under surface that she was not privy to. And the more Lena’s words turned in her head, the more she was inclined to grudgingly believe them.  
  
Winter was a slow time for a knight with no battles to fight. Villagers kept to their houses and few disputes needed to be settled. The increasing demands for gold, food, and resources from the King to fund his war in the East was felt by all classes, but Midvale was fortunate to be located on fertile lands, and no more than the usual grumbles were heard when collecting taxes.  
  
Kara, back to her usual self, often left for day trips to counties and duchies across the land, able to return in time for supper thanks to her magic of speed. And as always, she returned with tales of the lovely people that resided there and strong opinions on local culinary delights. Alex could hardly keep up with the many friends her sister acquired and although she was worried about Kara’s flagrant use of magic with Lena’s warning ringing in her ears, Alex could do little in the face of how happy Kara’s travels made her. After the terrible scare with Kara’s health, Alex was simply too glad to have to her sister back in good spirits.  
  
Alex inserted herself into the guard’s routine watches, busied herself with training the men at arms, and made regular visits to the villages within the march to ensure the winter was not treating them too harshly. But she was still given far too much time to think. Think about the possible plans Lex was concocting. About how at any time the King could grow desperate enough to call knights away from the border marches such as Midvale and into the war in the East. And as the snow started its melt, she thought more and more about the pouch of seeds stored safely in her room and the woman who had given them to her.  
  
The last expected spring frost was soon upon Midvale and the villagers began to sow the first of the hardy spring vegetables. Farmers welcomed new life into their herds and the entire march seemed to wake from its winter slumber.  
  
Alex rose, palms and trousers still caked in muddy earth from planting a small row of seeds within the castle garden. She admired her handiwork and surveyed the rest of the land, ripe with life ready to emerge. Soon, there would be flowers of all shapes and sizes in the courtyard garden, a tumble of names only her mother was wise to. And amongst them all would be Maggie’s flowers. Alex wondered what sorts of flowers would grow from the seeds she had been given. Her father’s skepticism crossed her mind and she briefly wondered if they were indeed magical flowers to cast some hex upon the castle. Alex quickly dismissed the idea. She had no reason to believe Maggie harboured ill will towards the Danvers family, especially after helping cure Kara.  
  
But, thought Alex, if she truly was so curious as to what seeds were sown, she could simply ask Maggie. Matters around the castle were not pressing and her responsibilities were not terribly great in number. She could afford a handful of time to make the journey to Blue Springs…  
  
Alex was packing a traveling bag before her mind truly settled on the decision to go to the woods northwest of Midvale. In what felt like mere minutes, she had informed her parents that she would be attending to business in the villages of the far reaches of the march and would be away from the castle for a few weeks, saddled her steed, and departed on her journey.

* * *

Kara and Lena’s clandestine collaboration to uncover Lex Luthor’s plans was proving to be quite fruitful. Kara, with her magic of speed, investigated what she could on the outskirts of Lex’s duchy, fearing she would be noticed if she traveled too near. Lena continued to receive meager bits of information from her spies stationed within Lex’s castles and did her best to weave them together into a coherent picture.  
  
At first, Kara would visit Lena in her castle weekly, reporting on the movements of supplies in and out of Lex’s duchy or to note any suspicious ships seen docking in Duc Lar Gand’s ports to the west. But Kara soon found herself in Lena’s countship far more frequently, content to merely keep Lena company as she poured over mountains of books, toiled over careful flames, or penned long books of her own.  
  
Kara never tired of visiting Lena in her laboratory. She was fascinated at the many delicate, glass phials, spiraling copper tubes, and great vessels that spewed steam that were housed in Lena’s underground study. Kara could name a handful of devices and tools—alembics, cucurbits, crucibles—from her many visits to Winn’s laboratory but Kara could only wonder at the other mysteries Lena kept in her laboratory.  
  
Unlike Winn, Lena did not dedicate her time in the pursuit of the Magnum Opus. In fact, upon Kara’s questioning, Lena had laughed at notions of the philosopher’s stone or the elixir of life, calling them fanciful legends of Old. Lena’s experimentation was far more direct. One small thought building off each other, trusting only what she could observe to fuel the way forward, until that small thought became a giant built out of bricks upon bricks of irrefutable knowledge. Lena had little time for mysticism, digging through stacks of codices and heavy tomes written in an array of foreign languages. She was particularly keen on the resources pooling in the _studium generale_ to the north, and further across the slender sea.  
  
It was on one of these many visits to Lena’s laboratory when one of Lena’s spies rushed in, exhausted and flushed from riding from Lex’s duchy in such a haste.  
  
“Comtesse Luthor! We’ve recovered a document of great importance from your brother’s holdings. The duke’s personal journal, sure to hold a key to his many secrets.”

* * *

Alex Danvers prided herself on her fast reflexes and keen senses, all of which made her an accomplished knight. Therefore, logic followed that walking amongst the magic surrounding Maggie’s forest was undoubtably the reason why Alex currently had one leg knee deep in freezing cold water and wedged firmly in a hole. Alex muttered a string of curses as she tried with little avail to free herself from her unfortunate predicament.  
  
“I told you to be cautious,” laughed Maggie.  
  
“How was I to know the boards were not yet nailed in place?” grumbled Alex, crossing her arms with a petulance that would put a toddler’s tantrum to shame.  
  
“If you had but given me but a moment to finish speaking instead of rushing over in a blind hurry, I would have told you.”  
  
Alex tugged at her leg, but it remained stubbornly stuck. A small sound caused Alex to awkwardly crane her neck to the side. The black cat that guided her on her first visit, Lionne, Alex reminded herself, sat on the bank, pointily staring as she groomed her paw. “A forest void of people and I manage to make a fool out of myself in the presence of its only residences,” mumbled Alex to herself as she spared a moment to cover her face in with her leather-gloved hand. She did her best to turn back towards Maggie. “I seem to be in need of some assistance,” sighed Alex. “Or must I ask a magical wish to be freed?”  
  
Maggie chuckled and picked up a hammer laying in the grass. “That would be an awful waste of a wish.” She placed the claw of the hammer under the board and pried it away, allowing Alex to free herself.  
  
Alex frowned down at her soaked boot and trouser leg. “I just had these boots dubbined,” she bemoaned.  
  
“I suppose I am due a break,” said Maggie, gathering the tools strewn around the ground. “Come. I can make a fire, and while your effects dry, perhaps you can tell me what brings you to my woods a third time.”  
  
Alex followed Maggie to her small house in the woods, barely catching herself as she stumbled over an exposed tree root. Mercifully, Maggie’s back was turned, and Alex saved herself from another bought of embarrassment. Alex cursed the magic that hung in the air. It was most distracting.  
  
“Can I not merely visit for the sake of your company?” asked Alex, slipping off her boots and placing them near the fire.  
  
“You may,” said Maggie, leaning back into her chair. “A person in my…situation is not accustomed to the request is all.”  
  
“Last we met, I expressed a wish to see you again.”  
  
“And I shared in the sentiment.”  
  
“Then it is settled,” smiled Alex. “Lady Maggie of the Woods, the favour that I ask is but to spend time in your company.”  
  
The edge of Maggie’s mouth quirked up at the request. “A bold favour to ask in the realm of magic. Who is to say I will not grant an eternity?”  
  
Alex thumbed the fabric of her tunic, suddenly unsure about being so brazen. “Eternity in your company you say? I do not believe that would be so terrible.”  
  
A playful silence passed between the two women for a heartbeat before Maggie stood, breaking the atmosphere. “Very well then, Sir knight, I grant you your favour. Rest assured, it need not be for eternity. But do not forget that every favour has its price.”  
  
Alex nodded and leaned forward in her chair, “And as always, I will gladly pay it.”  
  
Maggie leaned down to meet Alex’s eyes. “Do not be so quick to say so. I’ve devised a daunting and grueling task as your payment. Are you certain you are prepared?”  
  
At the sharpness of Maggie’s eyes and the weight of her words, Alex had to fight the desire to shrink away and instead locked eyes with her. “A Knight of Midvale fears no challenge.”  
  
A solemn bout of silence passed between them.  
  
Maggie chuckled, straightened her posture, and spun around abruptly, breaking the tense quiet. “Then I task you with fixing the hole you caused in the bridge,” said Maggie, throwing a grin over her shoulder before breezing out the door.  
  
The air left Alex’s lungs in a confused rush, her back hitting the chair with little grace. She blinked several times, trying to regain her mind as her heartbeat ran in every direction at once. “Wait a moment!” called Alex into the empty of the house. She stumbled out of the chair and made after Maggie, not even sparing the time to put on her boots.

* * *

Kara frowned at the writings in Lex’s journal. “These are all just daily musings. Happenings around the castle.” She flipped to a random page and read the entry. “‘Today the gardener trimmed the courtyard tree doing far from satisfactory work.’ Are you certain this is coded and not simply his journal?”  
  
Lena nodded, scratching yet another string of letters down onto a scrap piece of parchment, one of many that now littered the table and floors. “As children, Lex and I would take joy in writing coded messages to each other. As we grew older, our ciphers became more and more sophisticated. Lex was adept at hiding messages in seemingly innocent sketches, poems, or letters.” Lena flipped through the journal, pointing to the various notes in the margins. “These hold meaning. They must direct to something. ‘Last words,’ ‘twenty-two,’ ‘second in line.’ They must point to words and letters within the text, but so far, I cannot see the pattern. And this,” said Lena, unfolding the piece of parchment that was tucked within the leather binding. “These particular names, phrases, and words seem to be assigned a number, but the reasoning is random.”  
  
Kara squinted at the stained piece of parchment. “‘Damage’: two-three-one-nine, ‘land’: five-one-nine,” she said, reading off a couple lines. “They seem to be arranged on this page in some way, perhaps that sheds light to their meaning?” Kara tapped the page in surprise. “Your name appears here next to ‘one-one-one’ and here is the Danvers name, ‘two-six-five.’”  
  
“Numbers on a map, perhaps? Locations?” said Lena, reaching for a stack of rolled parchment with detailed recordings of the land. She set them on the precious free space on a nearby table, before returning to the journal. “These symbols…” mused Lena, tracing the squares and concentric circles sketched into one of the corners of the journal’s pages. “This one reminds me of a cipher wheel, a tool we used to shift the alphabet and encode words. But this one… Could you hand me that book up there? Top shelf, red cover?”  
  
Kara nodded, and with the help of her magic, easily jumped up and plucked the book from the shelf. “You truly think this can be decoded? The key could be on a missing piece of the journal.”  
  
“I’m positive this can be deciphered. I have a feeling this journal did not find its way out of the castle entirely without Lex’s knowledge. He is taunting me. Setting up rules to a game he thinks he can win. He has thrown me a morsel of outdated information, provoking me to play my turn.”  
  
“And what is our turn going to be?”  
  
“That remains to be seen. But what I do know, is that this will be a minor inconvenience to him. My brother thinks himself to be terribly clever, but his ego is his downfall.” Lena stretched her wrists before picking up her quill. “Although this may take some time to decipher, it will be done.”

* * *

“I did not realize knights were so well versed in the repair of bridges,” said Maggie, as Alex dusted off the dirt from her knees.  
  
Alex smiled and easily flipped the hammer in the air before catching it. “One of the weapons masters who taught me was quite fond of the bec de corbin. Hitting nail heads is startlingly similar to hitting helmets,” she quipped.  
  
Maggie hefted the remaining wood boards onto her shoulder. “Well then, Sir Danvers. What say you bring your war hammer and join the battle of the garden fence?”  
  
“A most important battle indeed! An entire land of people fighting against the beasts of the forest. I shall join you in this fight. As a knight I am honor bound to help the likes of Sir Cabbage and Dame Radish!”  
  
Maggie rolled her eyes at Alex’s antics, hitting the knight on the shoulder with a board to disguise the smile sneaking its way onto Maggie’s face.

* * *

Kara pushed the bowl of food back into Lena’s view, concerned at how little Lena had eaten from it, but the countess continued scratching away at the parchment with her quill. The night had grown into another day and Kara had to force Lena to rest before dashing back to Midvale to break her fast with her parents, pretending as if she hadn’t just spent the night holed away surrounded by books and piles of parchment covered in unsuccessful ciphers.  
  
Upon Kara’s return to Lena’s castle, it was obvious the countess did not heed Kara’s insistences to rest, and instead jumped from her chair, knocking over a stack of books. “I’ve solved it!” exclaimed Lena, holding up a crumpled piece of parchment, filled with ink scratchings. “Here, take this entry. It contains this line:  
  
_“‘The villagers complain that the late frost has damaged swaths of land and a majority of the entire first harvest has died.’  
  
_“Lex wrote this pertaining to the ninth day of April of last year, but I recall we had a shockingly short winter.”  
  
Lena grabbed the parchment containing numbers and random words. “This is where we begin. These may seem disorganized, but it can be separated into groups, if one connects the jagged lines between what we originally though to be stains on the page. The numbers are in fact separate. Here, the word ‘stone’ is 564, and since it is in this left-hand group, it corresponds to the numbers 5 and 64.  
  
“The first words from this list to appear in the sentence are: ‘the,’ which is 132, and ‘late’ is 324. One is in the right group and the other in the left, giving us the string of numbers: 13, 2, 3, 24. There are more words that give more numbers in this sentence, but you understand.  
  
“Now take the first number, 13, and observe the 13th letter of the sentence is ‘c,’ then 2 from that is ‘m,’ 3 past there is ‘a’… Apply what we’ve done to the remainder of the sentence, looping back to the beginning as needed and the string C-M-A-M-J-V-A-O-Y-V-W appears.”  
  
“Lena, this is a nonsensical string of letters.”  
  
“I am not yet finished. Here is where the cipher wheel is used,” said Lena, tapping the circle drawing in one of the margins. “It is a simple shift of the alphabet, but by how many places? We look to the day the entry is dated—nine—and shift the wheel accordingly.” Lena jotted down the new string of letters.  
  
“T-D-R-D-A-M-R-F-P-M-N?” read Kara. “It remains incomprehensible.”  
  
“Ah, now this is where the words in the margin come into play. They aren’t there merely to distract, they are a step to the cipher _and_ part of the cipher themselves. This margin note says, ‘second words.’ We must initially ignore their meanings and instead consult a _tabula recta_.”  
  
Kara blinked in confusion. “A what?”  
  
“Here,” said Lena pushing a parchment with a square of letters towards Kara. “The alphabet where each row is made by shifting the previous one to the left.”  
  
“So, this table-you-wreck-it-on—”  
  
“ _Tabula recta_.”  
  
“Right. That. How is it used?”  
  
“Lex and I would use this table in various ways to encode strings of letters as our ciphers became more sophisticated. You need only a keyword to compare the encoded word to. In this case, the keyword corresponds to the rows, and the columns are the decrypted message. Follow row ‘s’ from ‘second words,’ until you meet the ‘T’ from the previous letter sting, and arrive at ‘B.’”  
  
Kara spun the quill in her hand before painstakingly deciphering each letter on her own scrap of parchment. “B-Z-P-P-N-J-V-R-Y-J-V,” she read. “By the gods, Lena, are you sure this is the correct path? You’ve gone through a garrison of codes and have yet to produce a comprehensible message. What madman could create such a cipher?”  
  
“My brother,” answered Lena, with little pause.  
  
“Please tell me this string of ciphers reaches its conclusion soon.”  
  
“It does! One last layer to the madness. Finally, we must take in account the actual meaning to the margin notes. What are the ‘second words’?”  
  
“The second word of the sentence is ‘villagers.’”  
  
“Yes! And so ‘villagers’ becomes our new keyword. After yet again deciphering the letters through the _tabula recta,_ we get—”  
  
“Green dragon!”  
  
“Precisely. In alchemy, the green dragon, or the green lion, represents vitriol. So, this journal must be part of Lex’s encrypted alchemical notes.”  
  
Kara set down her quill and marveled at the complex web of cipher after cipher that made her head spin. She couldn’t fathom how Lena had begun to decode it all. “This seemingly tiresome journal is in fact a large code of itself? Every benign sentence when run through this convoluted system yields a new part of Lex’s alchemy notes?”  
  
“This is but one of my brother’s old journals. I am positive great advancements have been made by him since it was written. Nevertheless, it will be instrumental in enlightening us on his current nefarious endeavours.”  
  
“If it is as you say, and Lex has willingly allowed us this information, then how do we know that it is not all lies?”  
  
“Lex enjoys a cunning opponent. He lives for the chase.” Lena shook her head with disgust. “He may bend the rules until they buckle to a degree no one thought possible, but he does not break them. He thinks himself too much of a gentleman to do so.”  
  
“If we are to play his game, we should translate this journal as quickly as possible to arm us in the coming battle of wits.”  
  
“Indeed. And may I say, it is a good thing I have you to aid me,” said Lena grabbing a fresh sheet of parchment.  
  
“And I you,” said Kara, clearing her own space on the table and readying her quill, determined to uncover Lex’s plans.

* * *

“May I ask,” started Alex, setting down her spoon. “What flowers will grow from the seeds you gave me?”  
  
“You planted them?”  
  
“As you bade.”  
  
“Then trust that you will know once they bloom. What good is a secret, if so easily revealed?” smiled Maggie, a mischievous glint in her eyes.  
  
“Must all witches of the woods be ever so secretive?” huffed Alex with a small pout that reminded Maggie of a petulant child denied of dessert.  
  
“I do not know, but if you ever meet another witch, do tell me.”  
  
“Well, then it will forever remain a mystery. I have no need to seek out another witch,” smiled Alex, but glanced away quickly, surprised by her own response. She suddenly busied herself with the food in front of her, unable to properly receive the warm smile given to her by Maggie. It took a long few moments for Alex to regain her composure. “Would you at least be willing to tell me what became of my tunic?”  
  
“Do you wish its return?”  
  
Alex shook her head. “No, I am merely curious. Your storeroom and walls are adorned with the most peculiar of items, no doubt payments from others’ wishes. I am endeavouring to decipher what use a silk tunic has to you.”  
  
“The answer is it has little use for me. I gave it to a mother, whose son had been called away to the war in the East. She had come to my woods asking for protection for her son so that he may be returned safely to her.”  
  
“You grant all manner of favours, bestow protection, heal illness… How is it that people still believe only death lives in these woods?”  
  
Maggie’s demeanour suddenly shifted, and Alex immediately regretted her line of questioning. “Much is to do with when I first settled in these woods,” said Maggie, her tone sober and her eyes unwilling to meet Alex’s gaze. “But also,” she said, shaking herself from her thoughts. “It does with the foolish people who ask favours too selfish, too fantastical, too greedy to be granted. They are the ones to perpetuate the ill rumours.”  
  
Alex nodded, not daring to inquire further. The supper before her suddenly the most fascinating item to have existed.  
  
After a long pause, Maggie continued. “Few are desperate enough to ignore the warnings and seek me out for a favour, but others come with a false sense of duty to eradicate the threat. Me.” Maggie pointed to a sword mounted on the wall. “That is not just for show.”  
  
“I would think you use magic rather than blades.”  
  
“Magic is a fickle beast, and so I prefer to meet foes with steel.”  
  
“Then let it be known I am most glad that you do not think me a foe.”  
  
Maggie’s eyes flickered over Alex’s frame. “Indeed. Knight or not, I do believe I could best you in a fight.”  
  
Alex’s eyebrow quirked up in response. “Is that a challenge I hear?”  
  
“Perchance… unless a Knight of Midvale fears this challenge?”  
  
“Never.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next up: Alex isn’t one to back down from a challenge and neither is Maggie. Also, what other secrets are hidden in Lex’s coded journal? 
> 
> _Bec de corbin_ – Old French for “raven’s break.” It was a modified hammer head and spike mounted atop a long pole, with the “beak” side designed to tear into thinner plate armour, mail, or padded jackets. [ [20] ](https://www.metmuseum.org/art/collection/search/25073) [ [21] ](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bec_de_corbin)Despite its use not starting until the 14th century in response to plate armour, it gets a brief mention in this fic because I can’t help it. It looks really cool, ok? 
> 
> _Nomenclators and polyalphabetic ciphers_ – I bent technological advancements a bit here since Lena and Lex are a few hundred years ahead of their time to be using polyalphabetic ciphers like the Vigenère cipher (mentioned in episode 5x03 and used in this fic). [ [22] ](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Polyalphabetic_cipher#History) During the 13th Century, it seems only nomenclators were around, which equated a number to a name or word that was used as a code. [ [23]](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Substitution_cipher#Nomenclator) So, naturally that was also used by Lex in his convoluted code. Also, thank you to [this website](http://practicalcryptography.com/ciphers/classical-era/) that made my deciphering much smoother.
> 
>  _Universities_ – The oldest universities in Europe started to emerge in the late 11th century. Initially, they did not have physical facilities like a campus, but were taught wherever space was available like in churches and homes. [ [24] ](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Medieval_university) Scholars built upon their existing knowledge by seeking out ancient Greek and Arabic texts which they translated into Latin. By the 13th century, almost half of the highest offices in the Church were occupied by degree masters. [ [25] ](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/European_science_in_the_Middle_Ages#High_Middle_Ages_\(AD_1000%E2%80%931300\)) A small nod is given in this fic to University of Oxford (recognized in 1167) and University of Paris (recognized in 1150).


	6. Rhododendron

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alex and Maggie engage in ~~fore~~ sword play. Kara brings news.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Has it been three weeks, three years, or three days? No one knows. Please, have some gays wielding swords to help you pass the time.

**Rhododendron** _ **–** While the rhododendron is harmless, honey made from its flowers is said to carry toxins with hallucinogenic and laxative properties. Its apparent harmlessness is probably what made it a symbol of risk and danger.  
  
_“First to land a touch?” asked Maggie, readying her sword.  
  
Alex shook her head, raising her own sword in response. “If you are as proficient as you say you are, it should be no trouble to disarm a knight.”  
  
“So be it.”  
  
Alex Danvers was taught never to underestimate her opponent. That even the smallest, most unassuming enemies could be her downfall. But as Maggie lunged forward in her opening attack, Alex couldn’t help the look of surprise that crossed her face. Alex recovered quickly, sidestepping and bringing her sword around to parry. Maggie was already switching her momentum from a lunge to a backhand swing, pivoting in time with her arm’s motion. Alex dropped her sword tip to block, jumping back in a fade, Maggie’s strike barely glancing off Alex’s blade.  
  
This left the two women back in their starting stances but having switched sides. Maggie feinted a few slashes, but Alex recognized them for what they were and held steady, eyes constantly scanning from Maggie’s feet, to hands, to eyes, looking for a clue to what her opponent would do next.  
  
Alex took the opportunity to go on the offensive and shuffled forward, sword arcing upwards. Maggie easily parried, but Alex expected this and acted before Maggie could counterattack, stepping in closer and deftly switching her grip. In a playful move, Alex slapped the flat of her blade across Maggie’s shoulder. Alex jumped back, bringing her sword to a defensive position with a grin.  
  
“Clever,” ceded Maggie, only sparing a brief moment before jumping on the offensive. Mirroring much of Alex’s starting move, Maggie stepped closer with a quick upward cut that Alex sidestepped. In the split moment following, Alex read Maggie’s eyes, glancing to the side, readying for a side slash, but in the same breath Alex noticed Maggie’s hand shift on the pommel. Alex took a gamble and tried to block for either motion, but Maggie kept her sword close and wasted no energy, using the momentum of her upward cut to redirect her sword into a two-handed overhand strike. Alex managed to step hastily away, but the power of the overhand strike caught Alex’s parry with her wrist unsupported for the block. Maggie seized the opening and hit the flat of her blade on Alex’s calf. The two jumped away from each other, with Maggie wearing a mischievous grin.  
  
Alex quirked one eyebrow up in answer to Maggie’s smile before lunging forward in a flurry of attacks. Clangs of metal on metal rang out through the clearing as Maggie parried or evaded each strike. Alex didn’t allow Maggie a single breath of respite from blow to blow, before delivering a powerful strike, transferring her energy from her core to her elbow through her hips, snapping the cut forward, causing Maggie to scramble to block, locking their swords in an X. Alex knew Maggie’s block was hasty and had little support, so Alex wasted no time in reaching forward with her non-sword hand, grabbing Maggie’s pommel, and sweeping up while applying downwards pressure on the sword to twist the blade out of Maggie’s hands.  
  
Maggie knew her wrist and stance gave her little power to overcome Alex’s move, but she wasn’t going to give up so easily. Maggie willfully dropped the sword out of her hand, leaving Alex unbalanced with a sudden loss of resistance. And as Alex pitched forward, Maggie twisted to the side, ducking in the process and ramming her shoulder solidly into Alex’s midsection. Alex, unable to counteract the sudden shifts in momentum, fell back with an undignified thud, losing grip on her own sword in the process.  
  
Dazed, Alex had little time to recover before the glinting metal of her own sword tip was placed at her neck. Maggie beamed triumphantly down at the knight, holding both her and Alex’s sword in her hands. Alex scowled up at Maggie, admitting defeat with a sigh.  
  
“That was hardly fair,” groaned Alex, sitting upright. “You disarmed yourself prior. And did we not state the first to be disarmed would lose?”  
  
“I did not think a knight of Midvale to be so sour in the face of defeat,” said Maggie, extending a hand down to help Alex back onto her feet.  
  
Alex scoffed, but accepted Maggie’s hand up regardless. “You must cede that it was a tie at best,” said Alex, dusting herself off.  
  
Maggie shrugged and handed Alex back her sword. “If that is what helps you sleep at night.”  
  
Alex shook her head but let the gibe stick. “I must say, Lady Maggie, you are full of surprises.” Alex sheathed her sword and ran a hand through her hair. “How wrong it was of me to think you only dealt in flowers.”  
  
Maggie smirked and wiped the sheen of sweat from her brow. “I did say I could best you in a fight.”  
  
“And that you did,” said Alex begrudgingly. “Your swords teacher must be proud. You would certainly be worth of the title of knight on merit of skill alone if you so desired.”  
  
“My father taught me before…” Maggie looked down at the ground and paused. “Never mind that, I am content here in the woods and have little desire of the workings of a knight. I know enough swordsmanship to protect myself and that is sufficient for me.”  
  
Alex let her eyes glance over Maggie’s frame once more, this time not looking for where the next strike would come, but instead taking in the sudden reserved stance, a defensive posture Alex was trained to recognize even outside the battlefield. Alex knew it wise to not press the matter further and deftly switched topics.  
  
“Well,” said Alex, clapping her gloved hands together. “As enjoyable our melee was, did you not say there were bean poles to plant?”  
  
Maggie smiled, taking the out Alex extended. “Isn’t that sort of work beneath your stature as knight?”  
  
Alex shrugged, making her way towards the garden. “Perhaps. But I do not see it that way. I’m merely helping a friend.”  
  
“Friend, you say?”  
  
“Certainly,” replied Alex, the jump in her stomach most definitely a residual of adrenaline from the skirmish and not at all from the smile on Maggie’s lips or the way Maggie’s eyes glittered in the sunlight.

* * *

“Alex?!”  
  
The shout from the forest caused Alex to start and smash the hammer she was wielding directly onto her thumb. Alex dropped the hammer and held her hand to her chest in a flurry of curses. Next to her, Maggie adjusted her grip on her own hammer, as if preparing for a fight.  
  
Alex spared one last curse for her thumb before extending her arm, holding Maggie back. “Steady on. It is merely my sister.”  
  
As if summoned by name, Kara emerged from the trees and traversed the space between them in a blink of an eye. “There you are! You would think a heartbeat as thunderous as yours would be easier to locate,” grumbled Kara as she picked twigs and leaves from her tunic. “I bring urgent news.”  
  
Alex straightened, spine as straight as an arrow. “The march? Mother and Father?”  
  
“Are well.”  
  
Alex visibly relaxed. “Then?”  
  
“Lena and I, we’ve been working together to uncover Lex’s plans and—”  
  
Alex held up a finger, halting Kara’s speech. “Do my ears deceive me, or did you say Lena Luthor?”  
  
“Yes, yes. But that is not the pertinent information here. You must understand Lena is nothing like her brother. She does not wish ill will to the world. It is as we spoke last, Lex is planning something dangerous. Alex, please hear me out, this is of the utmost importance.”  
  
Alex took a deep breath, denying the words she wished to say, before nodding for Kara to continue.  
  
“Lena and I, we’ve been monitoring supply ships through Lar Gand’s ports and what little activity within Lex’s castle as we could. But recently, we came into possession of one of Lex’s old journals. It was cloaked in a myriad of ciphers, but Lena managed to decipher it. Within its pages were notes on how to distill magic from the blood of those born with it. We fear Lex has been stealing away people born with magic and doing unspeakable things to them.”  
  
“This journal, how certain are you that it is genuine?”  
  
“Very. From what information we could decipher from the journal, this was all connected to that green stone we found under my bed. It was only the start. Lex wishes to harness the power of blood magic for himself and only the gods know what he intends to do with that power.”  
  
Alex pinched the bridge of her nose and breathed in deeply a few times before opening her eyes and resting a hand on Kara’s shoulder. “This is indeed bad news. And though I appreciate you doing what I could not in investigating Lex, I fear what this... collaboration between you and Lena truly is.”  
  
Kara brushed off Alex’s hand with a scowl. “You yourself told me to investigate Lena, to ensure she was not in league with Lex. And I did as much. I do not see why you still have such reserves for her character. And while you were traipsing off into the woods with your… your beautiful witch _friend,_ Lena and I have uncovered this plot. We should be preparing for what Lex has planned with this blood magic, not debating Lena’s character.”  
  
Alex noticed Maggie’s eyebrows raise at the word beautiful, but she chose to ignore it. “Kara, you must understand I wish only for your safety. If it is as you say and Lex has found a way to distill magic from the blood, then you are in great danger.”  
  
“I am no child.”  
  
“Yet you will always be my sister.”  
  
Maggie cleared her throat, breaking the uneasy silence that passed between the trio. “It seems you have much to discuss, perhaps it would be better done over food and by the safety of a fire.”  
  
Kara absently scratched at her hand and looked down at the ground. “I am a bit peckish…”  
  
Alex smiled and bent down to whisper in Maggie’s ear. “I hope you have a stockroom full of food. Kara’s version of peckish outweighs the appetite of ten grown men.”  
  
Kara swatted Alex on the shoulder with a pout. “I heard that!”

* * *

“Lex is smuggling people through Lar Gand’s ports and we must halt this immediately.”  
  
Alex nodded. “Yes, but Lex has had large amounts of time to plan. He could have perfected the blood magic by now. Halting his stream of test subjects will do little to halt his progress.”  
  
“Regardless, these are human souls that need our help. We cannot stand idly by while Lex continues to perform his… experiments on them,” protested Kara.  
  
“And I feel the same. I do not wish this terrible fate on anyone else. But you know we must also look to the future. Now that Lex potentially has the concentrated power of blood magics at his command, what does he seek to do with that?”  
  
“If I may,” said Maggie. “Certainly, Lena has an idea of her brother’s plans from here?”  
  
“She suspects something to do with the upcoming knight’s tournament,” said Kara.  
  
“And here’s to thinking I would not be participating,” grumbled Alex.  
  
“You will do no such thing!” gasped Kara. “No one knows what sort of monster Lex is going to unleash. You cannot be so concerned at my safety and so flippant with yours.”  
  
“It is my duty as a knight to protect those less able.”  
  
“And charging blindly into a dangerous situation is no way to do so.”  
  
Alex laughed, devoid of mirth. “Don’t turn my own words onto me.”  
  
“Then don’t give me reason to,” challenged Kara.  
  
Maggie stepped in before the exchange between sisters became more heated. “It is clear we need more help than what we are given with us and Lena. Then—”  
  
“Us?” interjected Alex.  
  
“Yes, us. _Your_ sister came into _my_ woods with this problem. I’m magic-bound to help.” Alex shook her head in exasperation but allowed Maggie to continue uninterrupted. “Are there those we can call upon within the Midvale March or Lena’s duchy?”  
  
“Mother and Father would not be pleased that we are spying so deep into Lex’s affairs,” said Alex. “Our tentative alliance with Duc Luthor binds the march’s hands. Politically, there is little the march may assist in until more unshakable proof is found of Lex’s dealings.”  
  
“And Lena already has employed spies within Lex’s castle. She knows her brother is wise to her dealings and there is little else she can do against him,” added Kara.  
  
Maggie tilted her head to the side in a moment of thought before continuing. “Then logic follows we must investigate Lar Gand and his dealings with Lex. Duc Luthor may be impenetrable in his information, but Lar Gand not as much so. If Lena is indeed correct in her assumptions, and Lex is planning his next move during the knight’s tournament, then we have a few months to gain as much of an advantage as possible.”  
  
“Then it is settled,” said Alex. “Our army will consist of only us four. Kara, can you fetch Lena? I must prepare for the journey to Lar Gand’s duchy.” Kara nodded, already gathering herself to sprint back to Lena’s castle. “We will set off for the west in three days time from these woods. And Kara?”  
  
“Yes?”  
  
“If you could spare a trip home to deliver a lie of our whereabouts to Mother and Father? And by the gods, please make it convincing.”  
  
“I’m a master at lies,” scoffed Kara, offended.  
  
Alex closed her eyes and shook her head. “Remember, the simplest of lies the are best.”  
  
“Yes, _Alex,_ ” sighed Kara. “If that is all, I will see you in three days time.”  
  
Alex nodded. “Safe travels.”  
  
Kara disappeared in a blink of an eye, and Alex turned to Maggie. “You do not need to aid us in this fight. It is not yours.”  
  
“I may reside in these woods, but I am not blind to the world outside of these trees. Lex is a powerful man, if he is truly planning something great, it may spell disaster for the world. Magic-bound or not, I would be remiss in not helping stop him.”  
  
Alex searched Maggie’s eyes for any hint of doubt, and upon finding none, she nodded solemnly. “Very well.” Alex straightened and thumbed the embroidery on her tunic before continuing. “I will travel back into Blue Springs, and to the few villages in its surrounding area. We have a meager amount of time to prepare for our travels to Lar Gand’s duchy and we know terribly little of what faces us when we reach the western shores.” Alex tilted her head upwards, momentarily lost in thought. “You need a steed to get you there. I will procure one for you.”  
  
“You need not—”  
  
“It is no trouble, I insist. Have you armour?”  
  
Maggie nodded.  
  
“Then I suggest you ensure it is of good standing and that your blade is sharp. We must be ready for any foe.” Alex took Maggie’s ungloved hand into her gloved ones and squeezed gently. “If, upon my return, you have changed your mind, understand that you are under no obligation to join us.”  
  
Maggie met Alex’s eyes, unwavering. “Be assured I will keep my word to fight along your side.”  
  
“And I vow to do the same,” said Alex, raising Maggie’s hand to her lips, pressing a chaste kiss to the back of her hand. “Lady Maggie, we are blessed to have both your skill in magics and the blade at our side.”  
  
“And the world is blessed to have you, Sir Danvers,” smiled Maggie. “Safe travels, until we meet again.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next up: Time to blow this popsicle stand


	7. Christmas Rose

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things go boom! :D

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Vocabulary notes:  
>  _Ignifier_ and _somnum_ – Fantastical alchemical compounds borrowed from the game _A Plague Tale: Innocence_

**Christmas Rose –** _Used since Antiquity to treat dementia and some forms of paralysis, the plant quickly became a symbol of anxiety and disquiet—this is likely due to its toxicity, as handling it with one’s bare hands causes violent irritations and even more severe reactions if ingested.  
  
_Kara dismounted her steed for the fourth time this morning, dashing off in a blink of an eye and returning just as quickly with a warm pie filled with blackberries.  
  
“What about pies?”  
  
Maggie hummed, more focused on the passing trees. “Yes, now that you have reminded me, pies are the only food I can conjure from will.”  
  
Kara’s eyes lit up. “Truly?”  
  
Maggie laughed. “No, nor can I summon a roast or cakes or crown of lamb or—”  
  
Kara huffed and Maggie halted her recounting of foods. “Yes, yes. I understand. Now you’re just making me hungry,” said Kara with a frown, cleaning the deep purple stains of a devoured pie from her fingers.  
  
“Isn’t that your constant state of being?”  
  
“Don’t you possess powerful magics?” quipped back Kara.  
  
“Give a baker water, wheat, and time and do they not conjure bread from will?”  
  
“That is not at all my request, you know this.”  
  
Maggie raised a silencing finger. “And if I were to retrieve this magically conjured bread and deliver it to you without your knowledge, perhaps under cover of night? Then, when you awoke to find food having appeared from seemingly nowhere, would you not think it magic?”  
  
Kara’s brows furrowed, a curious crinkle forming between them as she gave the scenario thought. “What about tarts? They aren’t particularly pies.”  
  
Maggie shook her head with a small laugh. “Tarts are also beyond my magic.”

* * *

“You should refrain from such displays of magic as we grow nearer to Lar Gand’s duchy,” admonished Alex, without halting her ever persistent scan of the horizon.  
  
Kara sighed and leaned back in her saddle, finishing her last bite of fresh bread that she had sped off to fetch in a land where the sun was only beginning to rise. “The blame lies with Maggie. She placed my mind on food.”  
  
“Your mind is always placed there.”  
  
“Maggie said the same thing! My, what a pair…” smiled Kara, quickly spurring her horse forward to avoid her sister’s shove. When Alex did not pursue, Kara reigned in her steed next to Alex’s. “You _have_ been on edge ever since we left Maggie’s woods,” she said.  
  
Alex picked at the embroidery on her tunic, scanning the horizon yet again. “I am merely worried at what foes we will face when we arrive in Lar Gand’s lands.”  
  
“And it has nothing to do with Maggie?”  
  
Alex shook her head resolutely, not trusting her voice to deny the fact.  
  
“Your heart beats awfully loud around her,” pushed Kara.  
  
“She’s a friend,” bit Alex. “My heart thunders in my chest whenever you go sprinting off into the wilderness as well. I care for this party’s safety. That is all.”  
  
“Very well,” hummed Kara, unconvinced.

* * *

“What ever happened to you?” asked Lena upon Alex and Maggie’s return to the basecamp they had secreted away within Lar Gand’s duchy.  
  
Alex, who was currently soaked from head to toe, crossed her arms, teeth chattering as she glowered down at the ground.  
  
Maggie smiled and fetched a blanket from one of the saddlebags, draping it around the shivering knight’s shoulders. “We were almost spotted by some of Lar Gand’s men and Alex, in her swift wisdom, thought it best to hide under the pier.”  
  
Alex clutched the blanket closer to herself and sat down in a huff. “I thought we agreed not to speak of this.”  
  
“Unfortunately, it is difficult to ignore a drowned knight,” quipped Maggie.  
  
Kara was currently doubled over in laughter at her sister’s petulant behaviour. Lena’s mouth quirked into a smile. “And you managed to stay dry by…?”  
  
“I hid behind a crate,” deadpanned Maggie. “I suppose Sir Danvers’ excellent hiding place would not have been so terrible, but the men proceeded to stay in place for the longest of time.”  
  
“I can’t feel my toes,” grumbled Alex, which caused Kara to devolve into another bout of laughter.  
  
“You… into the sea… instead of hiding… a normal person…” wheezed Kara through laughs.  
  
“It wasn’t all for naught,” said Maggie. At this, Alex perked up. “The men spoke of Lex’s newest shipment. It will bear Lar Gand’s sails, but with an extra line stitched underneath it. We think it to contain supplies and captive magic-borns.”  
  
“Bound to dock in two days,” added Alex.  
  
Lena chewed on her lip in thought. “We must destroy those supplies and rescue those people, but I can see no silent way to do so.”  
  
“We’ve found a way into the castle,” said Kara. “Perhaps we could convince Lar Gand or Rhea to release the ship to us.”  
  
“Even so, Lex will certainly know something is amiss once his shipment fails to arrive. And I do not trust Lar Gand to keep his mouth shut, no matter how much gold we bribe him with.”  
  
“The knight’s tournament is in a month, this must be his last supply ship before then,” said Maggie. “Even if there was a silent way to destroy the supplies and rescue the captives, Lex will know of our involvement, but at least his supply ship will be crippled. We will have an advantage going into the tourney. Loud or silent, the end result is the same.”  
  
“True,” agreed Lena. “Even Lex has no way of recuperating his losses before the tournament. He will have to go on with his plan without these supplies and that may be the advantage we need.”  
  
“Then I believe I have a plan,” said Alex, doing her best to look like a commanding knight rather than a recently drowned cat. “Maggie and I are most familiar with the port, therefore we will be tasked with sneaking onto Lex’s ship. Meanwhile, Lena and Kara, you have familiarized yourself with the castle. Find a way to spread the guard thin and distract Lar Gand and Rhea to ensure they do not send reinforcements to the docks. And then we pray we are able to free the prisoners and sabotage the rest of Lex’s shipment.”  
  
“That is an insane plan to execute with only the four of us,” protested Lena.  
  
“And yet I see no other way.”  
  
A long silence extended over the group as they weighed the gravity of the plan.  
  
“Very well,” conceded Lena. “A small chance of success is better than none.”

* * *

Alex poked the dying embers with a stick, watching as the flecks of light plumed into the night sky before winking out of existence. With Lex’s ship docking in the morning, Alex knew she should be well-rested, but too much weighed on her mind to allow for respite.  
  
“Ever the sentinel,” said Lena, voice low as to not disturb the others.  
  
Alex turned to face the approaching countess. “We have much to do come sunrise, but that does not negate from ensuring we are not discovered before then,” she replied with measured calm.  
  
Lena took a seat next to Alex and the knight couldn’t help but to tense slightly. Even after traveling all this way in her presence and with Kara’s full support of Lena’s good character, Alex could not erase the connection between Lena and Lex.  
  
“I am not blind to the animosity between us,” said Lena. Alex made to defend herself, but Lena continued on. “I cannot help my familial ties. I only hope that my actions will speak for themselves. There is no point in wasting energy to convince a mind that has already settled.”  
  
“My sister cares a great deal for you. I say she makes friends and trusts too easily and she says I will become a grumpy hermit that lives at the peak of a mountain. Perhaps we are both a bit correct,” sighed Alex, prodding the near-extinguished fire once more. “This business with Lex is no light matter. I fear for Kara’s safety and the safety of all of my march. Midvale is home to many born with magic.”  
  
“Kara has been naught but kind to me. I wish only to stop my brother’s atrocious crimes.”  
  
A long silence passed between the two. Alex set down the stick and watched the last ember’s heartbeat in the dark.  
  
“When Kara and I were kids, a stray cat made it onto the castle grounds. It was a frightful beast, orange hair matted into brown, a massive scar on its side from some unknown battle, jagged as a bolt of lightning. A servant discovered the poor, emaciated creature and made to put it out of its misery but Kara caught wind of this and pleaded for the creature’s life. She begged my father to let the beast live, shed tears for that flea-bitten thing.” Alex paused in her story and drew her knees in to rest her chin upon.  
  
“Do you think me the same as this stray cat?” asked Lena.  
  
Alex chuckled, though it contained little mirth. “Perhaps. It was a skillful hunter, cunning, and most affectionate towards Kara.”  
  
“Was? Did your father reverse his decision to allow the cat to live?”  
  
Alex shook her head. “No, Kara nursed the bedraggled beast back to health and it lived many long years, content to hunt mice in the granary. Though in his later years, he happily lounged by the kitchen fires and accepted the trimmings from our meals.”  
  
“A fine tale, though I can’t help but wonder why regale me of it?”  
  
Alex shrugged. “I myself do not fully understand. Perhaps it reminds me of Kara’s compassion. Or of her uncanny ability to see the good in this world.” Alex removed one of her leather gloves and splayed her fingers. “The beast bit me once, with a hard scratch when I made the mistake of playing too rough. I still have the scars.” She gazed down at her hand, the spiderweb of old claw marks too faint to be seen by starlight, but there all the same. “The cat and I never truly got along, but I knew how much Kara cared for the creature and how happy it made her.” Alex replaced her glove and stood. “Kara has no such scars, of that I made sure.” Alex turned to face Lena. “Does that answer your query?”  
  
“I believe it does.”  
  
“Then I bid you good night. The day ahead of us is fraught with danger, we may not get another night of rest for long.”

* * *

Kara stopped short as a cloud of powder broke open from the pouch and into the guard’s face. Startled, Kara turned around to see a smug look on Lena’s face, before the guard dropped to the floor. Kara’s brows knitted together in concern. “Is he…”  
  
“No, just asleep.”  
  
“What…?”  
  
Lena patted the shoulder bag hanging at her side. “Merely a few basic alchemical ingredients in the correct ratios. That invention,” she said, nodding her head towards the unconscious guard, “I have named somnum.” Lena grabbed Kara’s hand in hers and urged them forward. “Hurry, there is not much time before he is discovered.”  
  
And if Kara were to recount the duo’s venture deeper into the castle, she would attribute the warm sensation on her hand as a by-product of residual alchemical substance, for what else could it be?

* * *

Despite what Alex had imagined, Lex’s ship was no grand warship studded in gold with masts tall enough to scrape the heavens. Instead, the ship was a simple cog and to the lesser informed, would have been mistaken as any merchant ship from the Northern waters. Alex bit her lip in thought as she surveyed the cog’s exterior. Its high walls and well-armed soldiers would surely make entry difficult.  
  
Alex dashed around a mess of netting and behind a pile of barrels and crates. She and Maggie had managed to slip past the guard’s littering the dock, but Lex’s ship was a whole other matter. Alex waved Maggie over and watched her safe passage around the crates, before pressing close to Alex’s side.  
  
“I see no way through,” whispered Maggie, her breath tickling the nape of Alex’s neck as the two peered over their hiding spot.  
  
Alex took a steadying breath to calm the ringing in her ears and quickening of her heartbeat. Surely, products borne from the fear of being discovered by Lex’s numerous guards. “We must have faith that Kara and Lena are successful in their creation of a diversion.”

* * *

Kara skidded around the corner, her boots dislodging stones from the castle floor at the force of her turn. “In hindsight, I believe my plan contained a multitude of flaws,” she said, pausing only momentarily to freeze the flooring beneath their pursuers, causing a handful of guards to slip, crashing into themselves and ending up in a pile of tangled limbs and dropped weapons.  
  
“Shouting ‘chase me!’ and flailing your arms like a mad man to a troop of royal guards did indeed get their attention,” called Lena through heavy breaths as she struggled to keep pace with Kara’s reduced speed.  
  
Up ahead, the duo’s path split, and Kara threw a questioning look over her shoulder.  
  
“Left!” replied Lena.  
  
“Do you have any more of that… that egg-and-fur?” called Kara.  
  
Lena’s brief, bewildered face was replaced with understanding in a heartbeat. “Ignifer? Yes,” she answered, rooting around in her satchel as best she could manage while running from a host of armed guards. “Here,” she hastily handed off the charcoal-black spheres. “Careful, they—”  
  
Kara did not wait to hear the rest of Lena’s sentence, as the two came face-to-face with another troop of armed guards. Without a pause for thought, Kara hurled the ignifer at a nearby wall. As designed, the alchemical substances caught fire upon impact, but aided by the magic in Kara’s blood, exploded through the wall with an impressive boom.  
  
Taking advantage of the momentarily distracted guards, Lena directed them down a side set of stairs, resuming their sprint to the throne room.

* * *

Maggie started, hand slipping from its perch and catching itself on Alex’s shoulder. The two whipped their heads in the direction of the castle in time to see a shower of stonework falling from its side. Alex smiled, already seizing her opportunity. “Kara does have a talent for being the center of attention,” whispered Alex as she led Maggie forward.

* * *

In the din of the lower deck, Maggie leaned in close to read the inscriptions carved onto the many barrels stowed below. Alex, on the other end of the ship, pried open a crate and produced one of many swords nestled in the straw. She swung it experimentally, before tossing it in the air with a flair and catching it with a nod of approval.  
  
“What ever does Lex have planned with all these supplies?” whispered Maggie, suddenly much closer than Alex thought. Alex fumbled with the sword in her hand, barely managing to catch it from her surprised grasp.  
  
“I do not know,” said Alex, feinting calm. “He has enough weapons to arm the whole of the kingdom. And only the gods know what provisions had arrived before these.”  
  
Maggie motioned towards the barrels she had been inspecting. “Black powder, vitriol, saltpeter, and other alchemical supplies in multitude. This is not a promising find.” Maggie stopped suddenly, tilting her head to the side. “Do you not hear that?”  
  
“No, nothing but the wind and waves. Perhaps—” Alex cocked her head to the side, catching the faint sound of a person weeping. “Oh.”  
  
“Not all meets the eye here.” Maggie leaned in close in the general area of the noise, pressing her ear up to the wooden walls and lightly thrumming her fingers against the boards. She inched along the ship’s walls until she halted, pointing to a small crack in the boards with triumph.  
  
“I see no—” Alex’s voice trailed off as Maggie unsheathed her dagger and fit it between the cracks in the board. A small click sounded, and part of the wall started to swing outward, dispelling the illusion.  
  
The sound they first heard ceased suddenly as the fake wall opened to reveal sturdy iron bars. A figure scrambled away from the newly discovered door. Maggie knelt down, palms splayed upwards in a show of peace. “Fear not. We’ve come to rescue you.”  
  
At Maggie’s words, three expectant faces pressed up to the bars as well as they could in their small confines. “Please, men stole us away from our homes in the dead of night. We’ve naught to eat in days.”  
  
“Have faith, we will free you,” said Maggie, keeping her voice low in fear of being discovered. Alex’s eyes continued to shift towards the stairs leading to the top deck, hand resting on her sword’s hilt, readying it to be drawn at any moment.  
  
“We haven’t the key,” said Alex. “And the lock is far too sturdy to pry off.”  
  
Maggie bit her lip in thought, scanning the cargo hold, before her eyes rested on one of the many barrels. “If you could assist me?” Alex nodded, helping Maggie carefully remove the lid to a powder keg. Maggie removed a handful of the black powder and filled the padlock’s keyhole. She raised her sword and grimaced. “This will not be silent.”  
  
Alex’s stance hardened, readying herself for the inevitable fight. “Then we must be swift in our exit,” she said, addressing both Maggie and the captives.  
  
“Very well. Stand back.” And Maggie swung her sword.

* * *

“What is your business with Lex?” questioned Lena, a dagger placed precariously at Lar Gand’s throat.  
  
Outside the throne room, the guards were making valiant attempts to break down the door, despite the large pile of all manner of sturdy and heavy objects Kara had moved effortlessly in place to block it shut.  
  
“Father, you told me nothing of these dealings with Duc Luthor,” broke in Mon-El, who was doing his best to look brave despite cowering in a corner. “He is a vile man, a snake,” said Mon-El, his eyes chasing over to Kara’s, gauging for reaction and approval.  
  
“We are in a war,” bit back Lar Gand, acutely aware of the blade held to his neck. “Lex is powerful, you have best remember that.”  
  
“But what of morals?” protested Mon-El. Both Lena and Kara rolled their eyes at his obvious show of pageantry.  
  
“Can you—” started Kara in a grumble, but Lena was already ahead of her in thought and tossed a package of somnum into Kara’s hands.  
  
“Now, without the…distraction,” said Lena sparing a glance over towards Kara, who was grinning triumphantly down at an unconscious Mon-El. “Tell me of Lex’s plans.”  
  
“He would have my head if I did.”  
  
“And I could have yours now. Then your lineage, your son, he could easily be dispatched. Your wife? A small matter of finding her. We managed to evade the entirety of your guard, I’m sure it would be of little effort to us.”  
  
“You are no better than your brother,” hissed Lar Gand. “Lex Luthor may have unorthodox ways, but he has a vision of the future. Of a better future without this infernal war.”  
  
“I am not my brother.” Lena’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “There would be no war, because all who oppose him would better be seen dead,” she bit back.  
  
Lar Gand scoffed. “A few lives are little to pay for the security of our lands, do you not think?” The blade at the duke’s throat tightened, cold steel meeting delicate flesh. Lar Gand smirked, feeding into Lena’s anger. “Go on, prove me _wrong_. Show me how _unlike_ your brother you are by cutting my throat. By forfeiting the lives of my family in your sanctimonious quest to better these lands.” A gossamer line of red appeared at Lar Gand’s throat as Lena’s dagger dug ever further.  
  
She was capable. It would be a small matter. A quick flick of her wrist and this pest would be removed. Lena’s gripped tightened further, further. A simple motion and—  
  
A gentle hand rested on hers. “Lena.” A voice soft and low called her back. “He is not worth it,” said Kara.  
  
Lena took a shaky breath, shoving Lar Gand roughly away, the grip on the blade in her hand loosening. Kara deftly took the dagger away, replacing its presence with her own hand. She gave a steading squeeze. Lena reciprocated, appreciative for the anchor. She had been so close. She had almost—  
  
Lar Gand’s broken laugh shattered the moment. The duke rubbed his neck. “You are right. You are not your brother. Lex would’ve had the resolve to see it through.”  
  
This time it was Kara’s whose usually kind eyes sparked with fire. In a blink, she was upon him, Lena’s dagger resting near the juncture of the duke’s legs.  
  
“You may not fear for your life. But what is a man’s life without his manhood?”  
  
Lar Gand gulped, a sudden pallor in his face, all smugness dashed away. And it was as if the flood gates of information were released. The duke blubbered line after line of all that he knew of Lex’s plans. Of the supplies and captives secreted through his ports. Of a knight by the name of Sir John Corben infused with corrupted magic blood primed to compete in the kingdom’s tournament.  
  
And so, the two left him, a sad heap of a man still babbling on his throne room floor.

* * *

“Go, get them to safety,” commanded Alex. “I’ll hold them off as long as I’m able.” The two stood back-to-back, surrounded by an impressive force of Lex and Lar Gand’s soldiers.  
  
At the sound of the exploded padlock, guards had rushed towards the cargo hold. The unfortunate position of their one-way exit had not allowed Alex and Maggie a smooth escape and they were currently trapped on the cargo deck, only managing to hide the freed prisoners before becoming overwhelmed.  
  
Maggie blocked a few tentative sword thrusts as the circle of guards inched ever nearer. “I can not leave you to them alone. You know I can fight. That I can help.”  
  
“And that is precisely why you must accompany the prisoners. There is little time to argue,” countered Alex in a sharp whisper. “Just promise me you will see them to safety.” Without pausing a moment longer to hear Maggie’s response, Alex grabbed a nearby shield and charged towards the guards closest to the stairs, and their exit.  
  
Maggie cursed at Alex’s reckless behaviour but couldn’t allow the opportunity to escape to be wasted. Sparing only a second to see two guards tumble into the open barrel of black powder, scattering its contents on the floor, she bade the former captives to follow and dashed up the stairs to freedom.  
  
Alex dropped the heavy wooden shield used to knock down the guards and raised her sword, lashing out at the nearest soldier. Surprise was still on her side at Alex’s sudden outburst of action, and the point of her blade swung easily past the soldier’s defenses before biting hard into their side. A guard to her left jumped forward, his sword arching to the air. Alex parried, sparing a fleeting moment to pray to the gods that Maggie would escape unharmed.

* * *

Alex had known it was folly to think she could defeat all of Lex’s guard. But she had to have hoped, for Maggie. And that was comforting thought, backed against the mast of ship surrounded and weaponless, at least Maggie was safe. At least the prisoners had been freed. But as the soldiers cheered at Alex’s imminent capture, a sudden idea entered her mind. She still had one tactic that remained unused—a parting gift from Lena before the group split for the mission.  
  
Despite her clear disadvantage, Alex stood tall and tore off a pouch at her belt. “Not a step closer,” she growled, holding a black sphere aloft in her hand. She prayed Lena’s invention was of sound design. “This has the power to set this entire ship, black powder and all, ablaze.”  
  
A chorus of calls of trickery and deception sounded from the advancing guards. “You yourself would be blown to pieces,” sneered one soldier.  
  
Alex’s hand tightened. “A price I’d gladly pay.” The guards halted, if only for a moment. “Do not test me,” pressed Alex, voice commanding and resolute.  
  
The guards thought to see through her bluff and advanced, but Alex was not one to go back on her word. In a fluid motion, Alex tossed the sphere down the stairs and into the cargo hold littered with black powder, sparing no time to see if the ignifier would reach its mark, she pivoted, making her way towards the starboard hull. She only managed a couple paces before the ship exploded in a mighty boom, sending Alex crashing through the air.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next up: Alex’s fate is revealed, and the knight’s tournament has arrived. 
> 
> Historical tidbits:  
>  _Gunpowder_ – Although black powder was invented by the Chinese in the 9th century, it didn’t make its way to Europe until around the first half of the 13th century.[ [26]](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/History_of_the_firearm) It was mainly used for cannons and bombs, taking until the 15th century for the first reliable personal firearm to be created and utilized, though archers still continued to outnumber marksman on many battlefields for centuries afterwards. [[27]](https://science.howstuffworks.com/innovation/inventions/who-invented-the-first-gun.htm) Also, did I shamelessly steal unlocking things with gunpowder from MacGyver? Yes, but [Mythbusters](https://mythresults.com/swimming-in-syrup) were able to blow a lock apart with 39 grams of black powder, so I say why the heck not include it? 
> 
> _Cog_ – also known as a “clinker.” In the early Middle Ages, the main types of cargo ships used were cogs and hulks, both evolved from a _knarr_ , a relative of the iconic Viking longship. [[28]](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Medieval_ships#Early_Middle_Ages) Cogs had a flat bottom, which added stability and made the ship sit lower within the docks for easier cargo loading. High walls helped protect the ship from being scaled by pirates and enemy vessels. Although these types of ships were used mainly in the Baltic Sea by merchants of the [Hanseatic League,](https://www.ancient.eu/uploads/images/9759.jpg?v=1545153540) Lex is sure to be rich enough own some, since the Mediterranean variation of the cog, called a _cocha_ didn’t appear until 1304. [[29]](https://www.naval-encyclopedia.com/medieval-ships/)


End file.
